NonExistent
by JustAnExperiment
Summary: Melaney Kitsis has a bad habit... she disappears. Actually, she ceases to exist: no shadow, no heartbeat, nobody there. But with a story like hers, sometimes it's better to hide. Can Kurt figure out her past and help her learn that sometimes it's okay to stand up for herself and not hide?
1. Committed

AUTHOR NOTE: Hello you lovely people. Welcome to my latest obsession: X-Men. Specifically one amazing Kurt Wagner. I happen to catch the movie on FX a few weeks ago and this story erupted. Now, the actual reason for this note: my story almost completely removes Storm from any important part of the movie. She is still in the story, but most if not all of her parts are going to be morphed to fit my OC into her spot. So, apologies to any Storm lovers (she's one of my favorite characters too, but her and Kurt's interactions were too cute not to steal). Now, ONTO THE STORY!

* * *

_When I was 12, I got my mother committed to an asylum._

_I didn't mean to; in fact, I fought with everything I had to stop it. I attacked the men that came to take her away. I screamed until my voice gave out. I begged. I tried to block the doorway. _

_But none of that has any affect, when you don't exist._

* * *

It started slowly, over the passage of a week.

At first, I thought it was my mom; I thought she was just too out of it to notice I was in the room until after I moved or made a sound. I would sit on the floor, watching the TV with her on the couch behind me, and then I would move or laugh or talk, and she would jump, confused. She wouldn't remember that I had been there the whole time. But she had done that before, on a particularly long break from her medication, and I knew if I could just wait it out, she'd be better by the next dosage.

It didn't get better, though, because next I would have to call out two, three times before she would hear me; usually I resorted to just tapping her arm when I wanted her attention. She would stare down at me, blankly, before smiling and asking what I wanted; she wouldn't remember that I had asked four or five times before tapping her. I worried, concerned for why she was blanking out so often. I thought maybe I should call the doctor or get help from the neighbor lady, Mrs. Maibley. But I knew that my mom never wanted to bother anyone, never wanted anyone to know about her medication, so I decided to continue waiting for her to get better. It would happen soon, I just knew it.

* * *

And then came the day I realized it wasn't her; it was me.

* * *

I remember that this happened on a Wednesday, because she was supposed to take me to church that night. She stood in the living room, her best, navy blue church dress on, calling my name even though I stood right beside her. She didn't hear me when I told her I was _right here._ She didn't hear me when I begged her _please, please just look at me!_ She didn't flinch when I slapped her arm as hard as I could, crying for her to notice me, look at me, do _something_ so I would know she saw me. Finally, she gave up and walked out the door, never noticing I was right behind her.

When we got to church, I thought someone would notice my mom wasn't quite right that night. I hoped maybe the preacher would help. I prayed God would help. But, there was no help; the entire church looked over me, spoke through me, never even glanced my way. I spent the service in our pew, praying to Jesus, hoping he would still hear me when the entire world didn't.

The next day, my mother looked right through me, her eyes glazed over and her veins pulsing slowly as they pushed her medication through her body from the needle. I took care of her that day, forcing myself to ignore the way she was so confused when the bowl of soup appeared, or why her favorite blanket was on her when she hadn't gotten it. When she fell asleep finally, I curled up beside her, positive she would wake up fine now that she had taken her medicine.

Friday, she couldn't find me. I spent the first hour following her from room to room, screaming for her to see me. The next hour I sat on the couch, resigned to her not acknowledging me; this would pass- she just needed more time to get over it. I refused to think about how this morning Mrs. Maibley from next door hadn't seen me either when she came over to help my mother look for me. Or that the police didn't see me either, even though I was on the couch, rubbing away tears quietly.

That night my picture was on the news and Momma cried all night.

I didn't sleep that night. I spent all night beside her on the couch, continuously saying _Momma Momma Momma_ hoping, praying, if I said it enough she would hear.

And she did. But after a final search of the house, yelling at me _this isn't funny, come out baby, where are you!_, she started screaming. She could hear me and she couldn't see me and that drove her crazy.

They came within the hour. A siren from the police; silent stoney faces on the asylum workers. And though I beat at them, though I clawed at their arms and bit them and cried for Momma not to let them take her, she was gone.

And my last memory of my mom was her wide grin and her hoarse voice crooning,

"My baby's invisible. She's here but she ain't."

* * *

Professor Xavier found me a year later, in a small shack only three blocks away from the asylum. He was with two ladies, and they came in a shiny black car. While the ladies looked about, Professor Xavier looked right at me by the shack wall and smiled. The reason this is so important is because it was the first time in a year anyone knew I was there.

"Hello, Melaney. My name is Charles Xavier."

"Hello." The two ladies jumped and finally looked towards me, shocked perhaps by thin air speaking. Over the year I had found I could make people hear me if I concentrated extremely hard. "Why are you hear?" I didn't mean to be rude, but making people hear me was hard and caused a terrible headeache if done for too long.

"I am here to offer you my help; I run a school for gifted youngsters, for people like us," he paused to indicate himself and my general area, "for mutants."

I glanced down the block, looking at the towering gray building I could see even though it was three blocks away. "My mother," I say, looking back at him and hoping he will understand.

"Oh yes, your mother. She was admitted around this time last year, wasn't she."

"My fault," I nod, "She could hear me, but she couldn't see." I swallow, the guilt as fresh as that day.

"You blame yourself for your mother's condition?"

Of course I did because it was and I couldn't leave my shack because she may come back out and by then maybe she would be able to see me.

Professor Xavier extended a hand and smiled reassuringly at me, saying kindly, "If you come with me, you will learn how to control your powers, how to be visible to everyone again."

My resolve wavered. I could learn and come back. And my mom would be out and we would be back together. But... my shoulders dropped when I remembered exactly what I had tried to forget. My mother was not going to improve, and so she was not going to get out.

Perhaps sensing my turmoil, Professor Xavier began speaking slowly, choosing his words carefully, "Melaney, as I said before, I too am a mutant. Where your ability is in remaining undetected, my talent is telepathy; it focuses on the mind. I can hear the thoughts of people, and when required by circumstances, influence the minds of people. In a case as delicate and unique as your own, I believe this is a circumstance that calls for interference. If I made your mother forget the incident that led to her incarceration and send her on a quick release, would you agree to come with me back to the school?"

My mother, always so sweet and loving even while on her medication. Finally, closing my eyes and clenching my teeth, I choked out, "Me. Make her forget me," because I am the reason she is there. She will be happier without me.

Professor Xavier didn't speak for a moment and when he did, it was only a quiet acceptance of my term. My hand barely touched his and he led me towards the car. I took one last look at the building where my mother was hopefully soon leaving and then I got into the car.

* * *

And that was my introduction to the world of mutants.

I grew up at the school. Over the next ten years, I learned to control my power, to use it at will and to use it on other, to use it with almost perfect control.

Life could not have been better. I had a family with Ororo, Scott, and Logan. Professor Xavier was the closest thing to a father I ever had. The children never ceased to make me smile. Everything was perfect.

* * *

And then the President was attacked, and my life took an abrupt turn.


	2. Museum Trip

**Author Note: **Yeah, this one kind of surprised me. I was supposed to be doing Latin homework, but this happened instead. Who ever guessed fanfiction was more interesting than a dead language? Anyways, this is the second chapter. Sadly, no Kurt yet. But he's coming, I promise.

**Disclaimer: Forgot this last time, oops. I don't own anything to do with X-Men, but I do own my added plot, and my characters. Please don't steal them. **

* * *

"Hey, Laney, can you take a look at this for me?" Ororo asks politely, peeking her head around the door to my lab. She walks in and crosses the tile floor, handing me the thin file as she takes a seat on one of the stools in the lab.

I take it, flipping through the papers quickly and efficient, skimming the information inside before finally asking, "What exactly am I looking for?"

She smiles, before pulling two of the X-rays from the back of the file and placing them on the table, "See this?" She points to the first one, tracing one thin fracture across the tibia and then another higher up. "This child, just turned fourteen, has had multiple fractures and breaks: he's a junior rugby player: and this X-ray shows a compound fracture to the tibia. Now, this X-ray on the other hand," she pushes the second one closer, "shows no scarring or evidence of any previous injuries. This X-ray was taken for a sports physical just last month, but it shows absolutely none of the previous history of- okay, sorry, Laney? Can you come back to view? I feel weird talking to a pair of floating goggles." She laughs.

Smiling sheepishly, I shimmer into being. It is a slow process, because I'm in no hurry and neither is Ororo; first my shadow flickers on against the white tile floor, and then my short form, and then the dull gray of my eyes and brown of my hair bleeds into view. Picking up the file to avoid acknowledging my relapse of control, I say, "So I gather you think he is a mutant; most likely specialized in healing. Is there any reason to believe his power will manifest noticeably?"

"A slim chance; Professor Xavier was wanting your opinion on whether or not it would be beneficial to inform him and his parents."

I tilt my head at her in confusion. "We've never bothered other small manifests before. Why him?" Ororo looks away, her eyes carefully blank, which gives me my answer. "The Mutant Registration Act. You think he needs to be protected, small manifest or not." She doesn't deny it, but she doesn't have to. I close the folder with more force than necessary. "Well, then it is my professional opinion that, baring his survival of a devastating train crash, he will be completely safe unknowing of his X-gene."

Ororo looks at me apologetically. She is one of my oldest friends, having been here much of the time I have been, so she knows how sore of a subject the Mutant Registration Act is to me. She reaches for my hand, and I let her take it. "I'm sorry, Melaney. We wouldn't ask you to think about these things if the Professor didn't think it extremely important."

I sigh, releasing the small build up of annoyance, and nod. "I get it; it's okay."

She smiles and then says offhandedly, "We're all going to the museum for a little field trip for the kids. We could use an amazing doctor in case of car sickness." When she sees my hesitancy, she adds, "It's only for a few hours, and the Professor is going too."

"Alright, alright." She grins and I can't stop the answering smile. Ororo stands and backs out of the lab, saying as she retreats,

"We're taking the cars, so be in the garage in about fifteen minutes."

She leaves before I can say anything, and I shake my head in amusement at her. Gathering the file up and placing it with other files to be replaced, I turn and walk through the door in the far back corner of the lab.

My room is attached to the lab for quick access, and because I don't like long walks early in the morning. It's medium sized, full to the brim of the essential furniture, all made from a light wood, and other oddities and baubles I have collected over the years. The object of my attention right now though is my wardrobe.

It too is stuffed full of junk; but where my room is a mess, my wardrobe is organized chaos: uniform/work clothes to the left, casual clothes to the right. My work clothes are made from shimmery material that disappears with me, without any extra effort. My casual clothes range from skirts to skinny jeans, blouses to tube tops, and do not disappear unless I make them. Since this is just a field trip, it is a gray long sleeve shirt and black trousers that I pull from the casual section, throwing them on quickly. A hasty look in the mirror to confirm my constant playing with my hair when I work didn't cause a horrid mess, and then I leave my room to join the others in the garage.

* * *

The museum is huge! I think I am just as enraptured as the children; so many different models and scenes, happy families running around, the noise of the interactive computers barely heard over the noise of the children laughing. I'm positive it was only the stern look from Ororo that kept me from running off.

Ororo calls out,"Come on! Stay in a group!" I snag Archie's shirt collar as he tries to sneak away. "Don't wander off!" Giving Archie a pointed look, he grins innocently and rejoins the group as we move towards the Jurassic hallway. I stay behind for a second, making sure we don't have anymore stragglers and then happily follow the group. We are halfway down the hallway when I see Bobby Drake and his group split off for the food court, but before I can decide to intervene or not, a little girl with chestnut pigtails grabs onto my pants leg and tugs.

"Ms. Laney, can you pick me up? I wanna see the dinos!" She grins, showing off her missing front tooth. I smile back and pull her into my arms.

"Hello, Molly." I greet, holding her high enough so she can easily see the mechanical dinosaurs. "How is your training going?" Her attention held mostly by the moving display, I watch as her eyes flicker through multiple colors, each one signifying a different vision: infrared, night-vision, X-ray, magnified, ect. "Very good, Molly!" I praise as we walk down the hallway, following the tail end of the group.

An hour later, Molly had been replaced by a small boy named Andrew and our group has passed through multiple different time periods. I an reading a time-line about Neanderthals when I feel it: Professor Xavier is calling us to the food court. Something about Bobby and John... Pyro...fight.

I close my mind completely off from the static telepathy, wincing as each half heard word rams against the inside of my head. When I look up, Ororo's eyes are already on mine. I nod to her, silently telling her I'd watch over the kids, and she runs off to help.

"Okay, everyone, I think it's time to go back home. Come on!" I call masking my worry with false cheer, ignoring the protests and guiding the group towards the exit; they resist until suddenly everyone around us freezes, mid-action. Since it is no use to try and hide the steadily down spiraling situation, I push harder and we make it to the cars in seconds. All of the kids find their seats in the various cars, but I stay outside, paying most attention to the entrance, watching for Ororo and the others, but a small part of my mind is concentrating on keeping my form visible.

Ororo and Bobby make it back first, followed by Rogue and John and the Professor. Following Ororo into the lead car, I ask quietly once we are on the interstate, "Ororo? What's going on?"

"There was an assassination attempt of the President; by a mutant," She sighs, her eyes never leaving the road.

Shocked almost numb, I sink into the cool leather seat and try to think rationally. A mutant attacked the President. Okay. Repercussions could include: push for registration, back lash on mutants, riots, protests, conflicts... a demand for a cure. I don't notice my breathing is becoming erratic until Ororo touches my clenched fist with a worried look.

"Melaney? It's going to be okay; Professor Xavier will know what we should do. Every thing is going to be fine." She tries for a reassuring smile, but her own worry is tracing lines on her forehead.

I try to manage a smile, but I think it was more a grimace and a panicked gasp, "Can you promise that?"

She doesn't answer.

* * *

**AN2: **Hi, just wanted to say, reviews make me happy. :) I'm not gonna be one of those authors that say '10 reviews or no more story', but they do make me wanna update quicker. Any kind of helpful advice on my writing would be appreciated: I can't tell what it is, but I feel like my writing is missing something...

Thanks for reading!


	3. Prayer Answered

**Author's Note: **This is really long because I couldn't find a good place to stop. Good news, Kurt shows up! Yay! Bad news, this may be the last update for at least a week: I have a conference to go to and I don't think I'll have enough time to write. Well enjoy this chapter, we'll be seeing some character developement, a look into the relations of the characters, and the meeting between Laney and Kurt. Have fun!

**Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men. If I did, Kurt would be in every movie. I do own Melaney and anything that doesn't match X-men.**

* * *

It is only as I sit in Professor Xavier's study, beside the mutant himself, that I feel relatively calm. Slowly, exactly how he taught me years ago, I force myself to phase in and out of sight, matching it to deep breaths, and after a while, my heartbeat slows to match it too. Finally under control, I remain out of sight, always more comfortable unseen.

I tune in to the group conversation in the middle of Ororo talking, "-reintroduce the Registration Act." And I instantly regret it. A shiver traces down my spine at the words, only to turn into a full body chill when Professor Xavier adds,

"Or worse. The President could declare a state of emergency, place every mutant under arrest." And if everyone is under arrest, not only would it be unjust, it would mean every mutant was in danger if they found a cure...

"Do you think the assassin worked alone?" Dr. Jean asks.

The Professor answers calmly, obviously planning, "We'll only know that if we find him first. I've been trying to track him using Cerebro, but his movements are inexplicably erratic," he pauses, "When I have exact coordinates, Storm, Jean, I'll need you to take the jet and pick him up."

Spurred on by an unexplainable feeling, I speak up quietly, "Professor?" I ignore the way Dr. Jean flinches as empty air speaks, but I do politely turn tangible when Professor Xavier turns his attention to me. "May I go with Ororo and Dr. Grey? The assassin may be injured from his failed attempt..."

After a moment, in which I open my mind to him and show my earnest want to go, he nods his approval. "Very well, Melaney will accompany Storm and Jean."

I smile my thanks and close my mind again, keeping my internal warfare from reaching Dr. Jean or Professor Xavier. Sensing our dismissal, we all stand to leave the office, but I halt when Professor Xavier asks me to wait a moment.

The door firmly closed, I look at him slightly confused, "Yes, Professor?"

"Melaney, it has been quite some time since we've had the chance to talk. How has your schooling proceeded?"

"Very well, sir, thank you. My teacher tells me I am well on my way to surpassing his ability to teach me." I pause, before barreling on, "I'm sorry if I sound rude, Professor, but I don't believe you called me to stay to talk about my schooling, sir."

"You are, of course, correct. I am concerned this recent development may cause you... unnecessary stress."

Of course he would know exactly what I was trying to deny. I run a hand through my hair, knowing that it is disappearing as I move, and sigh, "They're close, Professor, extremely close. And when I think about how she is there, helping, _leading_... I worry she may be caught in the cross fire if this turns into a war, or worse, that she may be one of the people hurting _us_..."

The Professor reaches out and holds the air, his hand warm and comforting on my frozen one. "We are not going to let it proceed that far, Melaney. We will find a balance with the world; they will come to see we are all human."

Fading back into view, a sad smile graces my lips, "Thank you, Professor, but by this point, I'm starting to think the world doesn't _want_ a balance."

He mirrors my smile and pats my hand gently. Knowing that this conversation will only go in circles, I nod and stand to walk out, but as I turn the knob, the Professor calls out quietly, "That is not the only thing causing you stress, my dear."

Looking over my shoulder at him, I try to put as much confidence in my words as possible, "No, but he is in prison; I have no worry about him." I do not stay to see the sad expression sure to be on the Professor's face. I head to my room, ready for a hot shower and a warm meal.

* * *

I'm walking out of the kitchen, hair in a towel on the top of my head, when I hear Ororo talking.

"We need a baby-sitter."

And then a very familiar voice answer, "Baby-sitter?"

Grinning like a fool, I break into a dead run, barreling around the corner and seeing my target. "Logan!"

He barely manages to catch me and keep his balance as I collide with his very solid chest; I can feel the deep vibrations from his chuckling at my childish behavior. "Hey Laney. Good to see you're still less mature than your patients." I bury my head further into his shirt, taking in the smell of fresh snow and tress that clings to him, along with something specifically Logan. "Come on, get off. Let's see how much older you are so I'll know how many birthdays I need to apologize for."

Laughing: because really, Logan apologizing for anything?: I step back and look up at him.

"I turn twenty-four in two months," I inform him.

"And still looking eighteen; you're always gonna get carded."

Looking down, I frown at my uniform-clad body, sighing because he's right. "Professor Xavier says my aging has slowed to the point I'm not actually getting any older. He called it 'cellular stasis in a state of homeostasis.' Meaning my cells aren't dividing because they don't need to." I shrug, "At least it caused something helpful, and nothing dangerous."

Logan goes to respond, but he's interrupted by, "Hi, Logan."

Dr. Jean comes down the stairs.

"Hi, Jean," and I am forgotten. When Ororo says something about going to get the jet ready, I'm quick to follow.

* * *

The flight is quiet, border-line awkward except for Storm's calm presence. I spend the entire flight checking and double-checking my kit, trying to ignore the glares sent my way every so often. I check my mind, as well, making sure it is hidden from the near by telepath; it is, as it always is. My power seems tuned to self-preservation, which means my mind is always protected unconsciously.

* * *

The neighborhood in Boston is dark, night having fallen a while ago. The buildings on either side of us are in various states of disrepair, but the church has to be the most neglected.

Storm forces the water swollen doors open with a powerful gust of wind, the bang echoing through the dilapidated building. Pigeons take off at the noise and leaves follow us in. I hang to the back of our trio, more than happy to let Storm and Dr. Jean take the possibly offensive lead, while I remain invisible and out of the way.

Looking around, Storm comments, "These are the coordinates." Why would the mutant be here? A sense of irony?

I look over the cobwebs, holes in the roof, and other various proof this building is not fit for human occupation, and I am overwhelmed by pity for the mutant who has made this his sanctuary. Under the watchful gaze of the Virgin Mary, a single candle burns.

Shouting. Someone is screaming at us from the rafters.

Startled, I draw back farther into the shadows, jumping as the words echo off the walls. "Gehen sie raus! Ich bin ein Büttel des Teufels! Ich bin die Ausgeburt des Bösen!" The words echo, distorting and sounding very demonic. What confuses me the most, is the fact they originate from different places in the church, always proceeded by the sound of displaced air, _bamf._ My head jerks around, trying to track the voice unsuccessfully.

"He's a teleporter. Must be why the Professor had trouble locating him." Dr. Jean remarks. Teleporter?

"We're not here to hurt you!"

_Bamf!_ Finally I see where he stops, a small movement in the rafters betraying him. I step closer, almost underneath the rafter he is on, trying to see through the shadows to him.

"We just want to talk!" Storm calls up.

"Gehen sie raus!" he yells back; I have no qualms with obeying. I step back behind Storm.

"Are you bored yet?" Dr. Jean asks. Bored? I glance at her stunned, but then I think. Of course, this would be normal for them, probably even boring. They've done stuff much more dangerous than this shouting match.

"Oh yeah," Storm mumbles, before calling up once more, "Sure you don't wanna come down?"

No answer. Not even an angry, demonic German remark.

Lightning crashes outside, the light flaring in the darkness of the church; the smell of burning ozone invades the church and before I can brace myself for it, lightning erupts in the church. It strikes the rafter under the mutant, the wood splintering and sending the mutant spiraling to the ground. I reflexively step towards him, not knowing how but wanting to stop his descent; unnecessary, since the next moment Dr. Jean catches him, levitating him upside-down in mid-air.

"You have him?" Storm asks.

"He's not going anywhere. Are you?" She walks closer to him, her entire body screaming 'fear me'.

His response surprises me. "Please don't kill me. I didn't mean to harm anyone." Well, maybe not the words, but the absolute sincerity behind them.

Ororo asks sarcastically, "Now, why would people have gotten that impression?"

"What's your name?" Dr. Jean demands.

"Wagner. Kurt Wagner."

It's then that I notice the steady drip of blood coming from his bicep. Stepping forward, mind firmly in 'Doctor' mode, I step around Dr. Jean, saying, "You can interrogate him after I take care of his injury."

His eyes, a bright, glowing yellow that contrasts shockingly against his dark, navy skin, widen. I remember then that I am still invisible, have been since we saw the church. Slowly, I fade into view, giving my best bedside smile. "Hallo, Herr Wagner."

A surprised, but pleased, look crosses his face. "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?"

I measure out an inch with my fingers, "Ein Wenig." Speaking over my shoulder, I ask, "Can you let him down? I can't get a good look from here."

She complies silently. His feet :two toed!: touch the ground quietly and he stands there, pulled in and hunched over, not moving; it's obvious he is expecting an attack at any moment. My heart twinges at the same fear in his eyes as a cornered animal; how could someone so obviously nice try to assassinate the President? Take out the Secret Service?. "Herr Wagner, do you have somewhere with better lighting?"

"Ja, this way." He nods towards the back of the church, and then leads the way to the altar. A crucifix has toppled over to cover the bottom half of the altar, but there is still a part large enough for him to lay on that is uncovered.

"Please remove your shirt and sit up here." I pat the altar. He complies silently, his eyes tracking my movements and, when they join us in the back, Storm's and Dr. Jean's. Sitting rod straight, I can tell he is extremely nervous and possibly even terrified. I glance over my shoulder at my teammates, see they are locked in a discussion, and then turn back to Herr Wagner to say quietly, "I'm not going to hurt you, Herr Wagner. I'm a doctor; I took an oath to help anyone that needs it and I'm a pretty nice person normally. So relax," I give him a real smile, one that shows off the dimple in my chin and crinkles my eyes, "We just want to ask some questions, that's all."

"Why should I believe you" He asks quietly, his eyes boring into my own. I pause, realizing he really didn't have a reason other than my word; why should he? I open my kit slowly, thinking over his question seriously, and remove a set of gauze. As I gently wipe away the dried and new blood, I look back up at him.

"Why did you come to a church?"

He blinks, his tail pausing its continuous twitch; he looks at me with confused eyes, but then his eyes track towards the crucifix and he nods at it. "To seek repentance for my sins, and pray for answers."

"So you came here and prayed. Is it hard to believe we are the answer to your prayers?"

"How could I know for sure?"

"Your faith." I smile, patting once more at bullet wound, "We are here to help, and help is exactly what you need right now." I pull back and grab an alcohol pad from the kit, ripping it open. I look up at him and warn, "This is going to sting."

Careful not to hurt him more, I swipe the pad over the injury, wincing myself when his tail flicks out against the altar with a muffled _wham_. "The good news is, it's just a graze. The bad news, with all of this dust and debris, I'd like to get a tetanus shot in you as soon as possible."

"Danke, Miss..."

"Melaney, but you can call me Laney." I hold out my hand with a smile.

"You can call me Kurt; though, in the Munich Circus, I was known as The Incredible Nightcrawler!" He does a flourish here, before shaking my hand. I can't stop the surprised gasp when I see his hand: only three fingers. Kurt flinches back. "Sorry."

I shake my head, ashamed of myself. "No, my fault; you just surprised me." I glance up at his face and berate myself as he withdrawals into himself, self-conscious about his appearance. "Kurt," I wait until his yellow eyes meet mine, "I am the last person to ever judge someone based on appearances; I'm invisible most of the time, so I have no room to talk." A hesitant smile crosses his face. The thin peace is broken by Dr. Jean calling over,

"The Professor will want us back as soon as possible, so no wasting time."

My form shimmers, blurring around the edges in surprise at her sharp voice in the quiet. Steeling myself, I force a smile at her over my shoulder, "Just a moment, I need to bandage this," looking back at Kurt I request softer, "Can you lay down please? I'm not sure I'll be able to tape it down properly with you so much higher."

He does so, his body laying out on the altar; I see Storm walk over closer, studying him, and I let myself do the same for a second.

The obvious things were the ones that had caused me to pause when I first saw them: the two digit feet, three digit hand, spaded tail. The less obvious ones I saw now: the carefully toned muscles, lithe and trimmed like a swimmer, and the raised marks on his face, neck, and torso. I step closer, a roll of gauze in my hand: under the pretense of patching his arm, I lightly touch one of the marks. The texture of the skin proves my guess; they are scars, done with a patient hand and a lot of pain.

"Why don't you start by telling us what happened." Dr. Jean suggests with a tone that means it is not a suggestion.

Voice shaking, Kurt's eyes glaze over as he remembers, "There was so much shooting, such fear. And then there was only pain." He pauses, the words choking him. I finish taping the gauze down and carefully lay a comforting hand on his shoulder. He swallows and continues, "I could see it all happening, but I couldn't stop myself. It was like a bad dream."

I can't help but gently squeeze his shoulder; the regret and remorse that fills his voice makes my heart ache. The movement draws his eyes to me, and he says quietly, pleadingly, "Perhaps he is testing me." His gaze turns towards the fallen crucifix.

"And before you were in the White House, what do you remember?" Storm asks.

He shakes his head, "Nothing. I was here." Storm hesitates, before looking to Dr. Jean,

"Jean?"

And while Kurt looks confused, I know exactly what Storm is requesting: for Dr. Jean to invade his mind and look through his memories. On instinct, I check my own mind, guaranteeing it is invisible to all but myself.

"I'd rather get him back to the Professor."

"The Professor?" Kurt asks, looking between us three.

"I'll explain later," I whisper to him. Storm, giving into her curiosity, runs a hand over Kurt's stomach, lightly tracing a scar.

"Did you do these yourself?"

"Yes," he answers and shifts to show that the scars continue across his sides and down over his hips. Confused, I place a finger underneath a perfectly circular wound on the back of his neck, just starting to heal.

"What about this, Kurt? This circle?" I ask. He reaches back and I guide his hand to the right spot.

"No, I did not do this one."

I look at Storm, my eyes showing what I thought: who ever made Kurt attack the President probably did it through this wound. Storm nods before she turns back to the front doors and walks out, going to prepare the jet for take off. Dr. Jean follows her a moment later.

I start replacing my supplies, politely not looking as Kurt replaces his shirt and jacket. Distracted by my thoughts, I fumble and drop a roll of gauze; it rolls across the flood. I sigh and bend down to look through the various debris for the cloth. A second later, it is in front of my face, held by Kurt's tail.

Taking it and standing up, I grin at him, "Pretty useful, isn't it."

He smiles back, flashing a mouth full of fangs, "The woman, with the red hair?"

"That's Jean Grey; the other is Ororo, or Storm."

"Miss Grey, she spoke about a professor?"

I nod and clip closed my kit, "Professor Charles Xavier; he runs a school for mutants. We work there; I'm the school doctor, since Dr. Grey stepped down a few years ago." Turning around to face him with a smile, I offer a hand, "Come on, they'll be waiting."

After a second of hesitation, he accepts.

* * *

**AN2: **That's the end. Hope you liked it. I wanna say thanks to my two reviewers; you guys don't have accounts, so I can't PM you personally. You guys pretty much gave me the energy to write this chapter. I also want to apologize about the German: I am relying on a mixture of German to English dictionaries and Google Translate, so I know it's going to be off, if not flat out wrong. If you see something wrong, please tell me! Thanks again!

German Translations

Gehen sie raus! - Get out!

Ich bin ein Büttel des Teufels! Ich bin die Ausgeburt des Bösen! - I am a minion of the devil! I am the spawn of evil!

Hallo, Herr Wagner. - Hello, Mr. Wagner.

Sprechen Sie Deutsch? – You speak German?

Ein Wenig. - A little.

Ja – Yes

Danke – Thank you


	4. The Real Mission Starts

**Author's Note: **Hello everyone! Had an amazing time at the conference this week; found time between classes to write this up. It's a bit short, but there's an insight to Melaney in here and a bit of interection between her and Kurt: so I hope that will make up for the shortness.

**Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men. I do own Melaney and any side plots I create in this story.**

* * *

When we get in the jet, Storm and Jean are quick to take off, planning to get back to the school before the Professor returns. As Kurt and I sit on the side bench, I notice something interesting hanging from around his wrist.

"Oh!" He jumps and looks at me, caught off guard by my outburst. I reach over and lift the rosary into my hand, looking over the well loved beads and cross. "You're Catholic?" Our eyes meet, mine bright with curiosity and his pleased.

"Yes, since my childhood in the Munich Circus. There was a priest, he spoke to me often and I learned much from him."

I smile at his happy expression.

"I haven't been to church in years, but my mother raised me Baptist. She would always take me to Catholic services on Easter and Christmas though, because she thought they were beautiful..." I trail off as the saddening truth slowly dawns on me that this is the first time in years I've talked to someone other than Professor Xavier about my mother.

Quiet reigns, only distantly broken by Storm on the radio, and then Kurt offers quietly, "I am sorry, for your loss..."

I shake my head once, "She's not dead, but I'm dead to her. It is better that way."

More silence: it is not awkward, though, like I'd expect it to be. Instead, it is the comfortable silence between two people who empathize with the others' pain. His hand wraps around mine, closing the rosary in the middle of our palms, "Would you like me to pray with you?"

Touched by his offer, I can't honestly and fully accept it, so I shake my head. "I haven't believed in a god in a long time, Kurt."

He squeezes my hand, his smile gentler now, understanding. "It is easy to lose faith when our prayers are not answered, but when we hold on to our faith, He gives us peace unlimited."

Peace? Slowly, not sure of it, I nod. Kurt starts praying then, a German prayer that is sweet and familiar. Even if I can't take comfort in the prayer, the steady lilt of his voice calms me.

When my heart beat has returned to normal and my grief is once more under control, I open eyes I don't remember closing to see Kurt watching me, an unreadable emotion in his eyes. Drifting on my new found wave of calm, I raise my hand and gently trace my thumb over the mark on his cheekbone. "What are these?"

"They're angelic symbols passed on to mankind by the archangel Gabriel." He doesn't move away from my touch, allowing me to trace from one symbol to another. They curl around each other, a continuous design of faith and sacrifice.

"Shön." I smile at him, "How many?"

"One for every sin." He says, before smirking and adding, "So quite a few."

I giggle, finally removing my hand to hide my grin behind my hand. "You'll have to show me this bad boy side some day."

He smiles back before growing serious, "So, you are a doctor for a school?"

"Yes; Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. It's for mutants, people like us, so we can stay safe."

He tilts his head in confusion, his tail twitching between us, "Safe? Safe from what?"

"From the humans that want to hurt us, to _cure_ us, because we're different." I can't hide the hate and pain in my voice, my blood beginning to simmer as I think about all of the people, the organizations, dedicated to _helping_ us, _curing_ us, like we are a disease, infecting the human population; these ones, the ones who hide behind _good intentions, _they are worse than the ones who laugh and hurt and fear. I hate every single one of them.

Kurt looks away, speaking quietly and thoughtfully, "Outside of the circus, most people were afraid of me. But I didn't hate them. I pitied them." He looks at me, "do you know why?" I shake my head, thoughts thrown off as I try to understand how anyone can _pity _theose people."Most people will never know anything beyond what they see with their own two eyes."

I shake my head this time. "It is the people who see but hate what they see who are the danger. While there are people like that in this world, there will never be peace." My voice has risen, inching towards yelling as my blood begins to boil; I see Ororo glance back at me worriedly- she knows there's only one subject that makes me so reactant.

I choke on my next harsh words when Kurt's hand cups my face gently, my blood freezing in my shock, my anger draining away.

"Someone so beautiful should not be so angry." He says quietly.

I swallow, speaking pass the lump in my throat, "I've been angry for so long, I don't think I can stop."

His thumb traces my cheekbone this time. "Let me help you."

"I don't think you can, Kurt."

"I could if you let me."

"How could I know for sure?"

"Your faith." He smiles, the mix up of our previous conversation lightening the mood a little.

Taking a deep, steeling breath, I lean into his touch. And a second later I flick out of sight and jump away as Storm clears her throat from above us. I meet her eyes sheepishly, slowly melting back into sight.

"Wolverine, Rogue, Bobby and John are in Boston. There was an attack on the school and the Professor and Scott aren't answering. We're going to go pick Logan and them up."

Oh God, an attack?!

I stand up, concern driving me to Storm to grab her arms and ask, panicked, "Are the children okay? Is anyone hurt? Why would they attack a bunch of children?!"

Her eyes glance over my shoulder. "Because of his attack on the President; we were worried about a Registration Act when we should have been preparing for war." She looks back at me and I can see her 'mother side' kick in. Her expression consists of worry, distrust, and concern. I can feel my form blurring at the pressure of her gaze.

"Storm! We're here, but it looks like the party started without us!" Dr. Jean calls from the cockpit. Preparing for landing, I pull Kurt up to the single seats and take the one behind him.

The plane shakes once as it lands and then John and Wolverine are coming in, followed by Bobby and Rogue. I glare at them reprovingly as they react in shock to Kurt's appearance. Bobby winces at my glare, and he tries to smile apologetically to Kurt, but their reactions have already caused a heavy presence.

"Guten tag," he greets, smiling awkwardly, trying to be nice.

Logan ruffles my hair as he passes, demanding,"Who the hell is this?"

"Kurt Wagner," Kurt introduces, "but in the Munich Circus I was known as The Incredible Nightcrawler-"

Ever rude Logan cuts in, "Yeah, save it. Storm."

"We're outta here." She calls back.

I unbuckle my restraints and lean forward from my seat to squeeze his shoulder; he looks back at me and smiles, hopefully showing he isn't bothered by Logan's gruffness. I know Logan didn't mean any harm, that he was just more concerned with us getting out of danger, but I want to make sure Kurt knows, too.

He touches my hand reassuringly.

"I've got two signals approaching." Storm announces. "Coming up now."

As the jets come up on either side, Kurt's reassuring touch becomes my lifeline. It is his warm palm covering my hand that keeps me calm and visible as adrenaline makes my heart pound furiously. At least until Storm starts yelling, "They're marking us! They're gonna fire. Hang on!" And then she rolls.

Having taken off my restraints to reach forward to Kurt, I have nothing to hold me into my seat. I flip out of it and crash against the jet wall and ceiling, pain shooting down my arm as my shoulder takes the full brunt of the impact; a warm, three digit hand grabs mine and pulls me down. Kurt wraps his arms around me and holds me against him protectively, I grab his jacket in a steel grip as Storm levels out the jet.

John pleads not to do that again, and Logan agrees, but I'm more focused as Storm calls back, "Laney! Can you make us disappear?!"

I shake my head frantically, "I've never done something this big before!"

"Damn it!" Logan curses, "Don't we have any weapons in this heap?"

Cue darkness and thunder; the wind jerks the jet from side to side and the only thing I can do is hold on to Kurt and hope he doesn't let me go crashing around again. I can't stop my body from flickering in and out of view, until finally it just stays invisible, even after Storm disperses the tornadoes. Instead, I sink farther into it, my shadow and scent completely disappearing as Storm warns we have missiles coming straight for us.

* * *

**AN2: **Okay, sorry for the miniature cliffhanger. I should have the next one out by next week. I hope you guys enjoyed this, and feel free to review with any notes, comments, or criticism. I want to thank and Spokensilenc3 for their reviews on the last chapter. Spokensilenc3, I hope Melaney continues being good: I'm counting on my fans to help me keep her realistic and not a Mary-Sue. :)

German Translations

Shön - Beautiful

Guten tag - Hello


	5. Memory Lane

**Author's Note: ** So I lied; this one just wrote itself. I didn't really have to think much about this one, everything just fit perfectly. Hope you think so too.

In this chapter we see some KurtXMelaney interaction, and a good piece of Melaney's past is given. Hope you guys enjoy :).

**Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men. If I did, ..., well. Let's not delve into that chaos, okay?**

* * *

An explosion crashes behind us, the vibrations from it shaking the jet. I grab on tighter to Kurt's jacket, screaming in my head because I'm too terrified to scream out loud. The back of the jet explodes then, and I can't tell if the screaming is the wind or me or someone else. Eyes wide in terror, I watch horrified and helpless as Rogue is ripped from her seat and thrown out of the jet.

"Hold on!" Kurt yells over the wind, replacing his jacket with the restraint belt. I look at him, confused and disoriented, and then suddenly he is gone. Not invisible, but actually gone.

My eyes frantically scan the crashing plane, looking for him, illogically trying to find him when he couldn't just be walking around. And then he is beside me on the ground, Rogue in his arms and both of them in one piece. His eyes meet mine, and the relief that floods my body both confuses and makes me happy. Rogue is safe; not torn to pieces or splattered on the ground. That's why I'm relieved. That's it.

The sound of creaking metal and the wind slows; my eyes instantly go to the hole in the back of the jet. Like a giant mouth, the hole is closing, the metal weaving back together until finally the hole is closed: the amazement and confusion and relief is thick in the jet.

"Jean?" Storm asks.

"It's not me."

Wait, what? Then who? The confusion swells to panic as the plane's crashing speed slows until finally we are stopped, levitating only meters from the ground. And the man responsible for our survival is grinning like a cat who caught the canary, one hand lazily extended, our lives held in one merciless palm. My stomach knots in fear and disbelief, an overwhelming distress that should not be possible from one being.

Scratch that, two: Mystique stands beside him, as beautiful and deadly as last time, if not more. My heart thuds painfully, trying to escape my chest desperately; and then it stops.

I am not just invisible now. I am nonexistent.

There is no heartbeat, no heat, no weight. I am less than air, less than the molecules and atoms that create our world. I am not. And yet, I am. My thoughts race while my heart stays still. My breath freezes in my lungs, but I have no need to breathe. My touch has no more effect than light, and in the plane's illumination I cast no shadow. This is my last defense: an instinctive protection that prevents anything from detecting me. I can not help the painful memory of how it did not help last time.

Logan and Dr. Jean leave first, followed shortly by Storm, John, Bobby, and finally a still rattled Rogue. Kurt watches them, maybe trying to decide if he should follow or not, but then his eyes look to me, and they widen in panic. "Laney?!" He gasps, his tail sweeping from side to side like a startled cat's.

"Here," I whisper, but a second later I realize he will not hear me, so I force myself to ignore my screaming instincts. I project my voice so he can hear me this time. "Here, I'm here..."

He looks, his eyes straining to see what is impossible to see. "Where? I can not see you!"

"In the chair." My voice shakes; Magneto and Mystique are no longer in view of the windshield. Kurt reaches out but a centimeter from touching me, he stops, unconsciously repelled from touching me. I take a deep breath and move forward, letting his fingers just brush my cheek. Instantly my mind rebels, screaming that nothing should be able to touch me when I am like this, when I am at red-alert shutdown. I suppress a flinch, remaining stone still while waiting for Kurt's next move.

He trails his hand slowly from my cheek to my neck to my shoulder and finally to my hand, his fingers brushing over my clenched fist. At his gentle insistence, my hand relaxes and he wraps his own around it, a desperately needed anchor.

"Wir sind sicher," he says softly, his words lilting and soothing.

I shake my head even though he can't see it. "I'm not. Not with them so close. I have traded a quick death for a slow torture." Because that is what he promised me when we met the next time.

Kurt is confused; he does not know I am not still in distress from the almost crash, does not know my painful history with Magneto. A moment of silent thought and then he sets his expression; he crouches in front of me and his other hand finds mine, his thumbs rubbing comforting circles on the back of my hands. Kurt begins reciting bible verses, his voice steady and calm. And just like before, my breathing slows and my heart beats to match his rhythm. I am lost in the soft lilt of his voice, buoyed by his own calm. I melt into view after a long stretch of time, still very pale and shaking, but visible. When finally I am fully there, Kurt stops and smiles a small smile at me. "There you are." I manage a wavering smile in answer.

Kurt helps me up, supporting my weight easily until my legs remember how to stand, and then we walk down the ramp together.

Storm is beside me the instant my foot hits solid ground; as she pulls me away, I wave to Kurt and mouth 'Thank you'.

When we are a ways away from the group, she stops and places a hand on my shoulder with worry in her eyes, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah... I'll be okay." I glance around, spotting Magneto talking to Dr. Jean, and I gasp in a shaky breath. "I'll be fine." I can't tell if I'm trying to convince her or myself. I don't succeed with either.

"I want you to stay as far away from him as possible; don't go off anywhere alone. He knows something about the Professor and we have to, unfortunately, cooperate until we have a better plan. But I don't want him within ten feet of you without me or Logan right beside you." Her eyes soften and she pulls me in for a hug, "I'm sorry; I know you must be scared."

A hysterical laugh escapes, "Terrified."

"I won't let him hurt you. Not again." She promises before letting me go.

I nod, throat closed from an overwhelming swell of fear and gratefulness, and doubt. She pushes a lock of my hair from my face, gives me a last forced smile, and then turns to go join the discussion with Dr. Jean.

I stand there another moment before looking around. Not seeing Kurt, I head over to where Bobby and his friends were setting up the tents. It was still a few hours til dark, but dusk was close.

"Hey Dr. Kitsis." Rogue calls as she helps Bobby tie off a support string.

"Hello Rogue. You guys need any help?"

"Nah, we got it." Bobby speaks up," But you can help John collect firewood."

Looking over to the mentioned mutant, I shake my head and suggest, "Why don't I get the firewood and you go help get the other supplies off the jet? We'll get camp set up faster that way."

* * *

I don't go far into the trees; the sound of the others is still recognizable. I have three or four good sized branches in my arms when another branch swings in front of my face. I jump back and look up startled, only to laugh when I see Kurt's grinning face; he is hanging upside down from the tree, his toes easily gripping the branch he is on.

"Hallo," He quips, his grin never wavering. I shake my head, amused.

"Hallo, Kurt. Are you following me?"

"I can not help if I was out here and a shön fraulein walked underneath my tree."

"So you were following me."

He winks, his grin never slipping, "Vielleicht."

I try to act offended, but eventually I crumble into laughter. "Come on, if you're gonna follow me, you can make yourself useful and carry the firewood."

He flips gracefully and easily lands on the ground, only a soft thud evidence of the impact. He takes my armful of wood and adds his own piece. "Wow," I gasp, "I would have fallen flat on my face."

He bows playfully, "In the Munich Circus, I was a star act, along with my sister, Jimaine; we would amaze hundreds of people with our acrobatic feats." The pride in his voice is obvious, along with fondness and a touch of homesickness.

Picking up a branch, I add it to his arms and ask, "Will you tell me about your act? I've never been to the circus before."

Shock floods his face and suddenly he is talking, his hands and tail animatedly waving to emphasize a point or show how grand something was. I listen enraptured, every so often adding another branch to his pile, as he describes how exciting every show was, no matter how many times he had performed it, of the exhilaration that happened when a hard routine went off successfully. The ever present smell of popcorn and food; sound of circus music; the hustle and bustle of the crowd.

Some stories left stitches in my sides; a tale of the first time he teleported and ended up in the woman's communal bath house: a recount of a prank played on him by his brother, Stefan: the time he got locked in with the lion cubs during travel between sites and they chewed on his tail. Others made me so mad I could scream; a bag of popcorn thrown in the middle of his act: a child screaming and crying at his appearance: the time he had to run away from a mob of self-righteous bigots. But every time Kurt sees my smile slip down into a frown, he jumps into a different story with over-exaggerated motions to distract me. And I let him, because I don't want to think about the bad people in the world; I always worry about them, and right now, right here with Kurt, is my time to relax.

It is well over an hour later and growing darker every second when we return to camp; Kurt has his arms full of wood and his tail rests on my shoulder companionably as I lean against him for support, my breath hitching as I try to calm down. Kurt is grinning widely, his eyes shining in amusement which increases as I accidentally snort, sending us both into hysterical laughter.

"Hey, Dr. Kitsis! About time you got back." Bobby calls, his grin wide and teasing. I wave to him as Kurt empties his armload beside the already roaring bonfire; Bobby winks at me and grins knowingly. I have no clue what he is doing.

"Hey Laney, why don't you go order out the tents? Make sure everyone has a place to sleep tonight." I turn around to face Ororo, ready to protest and tell her of course there are plenty of tents, when I catch sight of the approaching group over her shoulder. Magneto's cold eyes glare at me and, as my breath freezes in my chest, his lips twitch into a hateful smirk.

"Oh... Okay." I breath out, turning and escaping without even a good bye to Kurt. I head straight for a tent, claiming it as my hiding spot and zip it up before collapsing onto the laid out sleeping bag. My head between my knees, I try to calm my breathing before I start hyperventilating. Adrenaline rushes through my veins and my invisible hands shake uncontrollably. When someone taps on the tent wall, I gasp and flinch back, my stomach flipping in fear.

"Laney?" Kurt's calm, deep voice comes from outside.

"Kurt? I'm sorry, but can you leave me alone for a little while? Please?" I want him to come in very badly, needing the comfort he has already given twice before, but I can't subject him to that again. I can feel myself teetering on the edge of a breakdown.

A pause, and then he answers quietly, "Of course; I will be outside if you need me." His quiet footsteps retreat. When he has left, I sigh and collapse back onto the sleeping bag, pulling the side over top of me with a jerk. My mind runs in circles, chasing around everything that has happened today, more excitement in this one day than any other in the entire year. Slowly, as my thoughts trail off into the blankness of sleep, my eyes close.

With sleep, comes memories.

* * *

I am fourteen; only one year has passed but I have made small victories over my powers. I am walking down the endless hallways of Xavier's school when a door slams open and a man comes charging out of the room. He is shouting something, his voice overlapping and hiding the calm tones of Professor Xavier.

The screaming stops suddenly. Professor Xavier rolls into the hall. The man curses and demands, "As if this damn place could get anymore fucked up, why is there a floating dress?!" The screaming had startled me, breaking my developing but still weak control over my natural instinct to hide. Only my blue sundress is visible.

"Logan, this is Melaney. She is a student here at the school." Professor Xavier introduces.

The muscles along Logan's shoulders relax, his anger visibly draining away. "How old is she?"

"I'm fourteen." I snap, invisible but not about to be talked about like I wasn't there.

"She joined us here about a year ago." The Professor adds.

Logan sighs and runs a hand through his hair. "Okay. Point take. I'll listen." And, not explaining, they turn back to go back into Professor Xavier's office. Logan calls out over his shoulder, "See ya around, kid."

It was only when I was back in my room that I realized he had made a joke.

XxXxXxX

The image melts away, the darkness lightening up to show the next one. Now I am sixteen, running through the woods. An inferno blazes at my heels, the fire licking and scorching my skin; I cry out as a branch crashes to the ground in front of me, sparks stinging my eyes. My feet slip out from underneath me and I frantically push myself across the ground, fleeing from the fire. I freeze as a crack comes from overhead. Drawn by the need to know what was causing it, I look up and scream as the top half of a burning pine spirals down to crush me.

Inches away, it dissolves and the Danger Room fades into view. Feedback, and then Logan's gruff voice calls from the intercom, "Not bad kid, if you were trying to become kindling."

I blow a piece of hair out of my face, "Thanks so much, Logan." My smile ruins the sarcastic tone. "Come on, one more time before lunch. Let's try turning the heat _way_ down this time." My smile changes to a daring grin, confident as my form sharpens into view at the slightest of thought. Two years have seen some major improvements; almost complete control.

XxXxXxXx

The memory dissolves into another one, staying dark this time. The streets are deserted, only occupied by eighteen year old me, and I am as invisible as can be. It is past midnight, but I have no idea how far past; I have been out here for hours, walking up and down these streets, looking, observing. And finally, it pays off. A door closes a second after I round the corner, and with silent steps I run to the building and slip in.

The room is dark, but the bare bulb overhead exposes exactly what I am looking for: crates of guns, big bulky things unlike any rifle or shotgun I've ever seen. Looking around quickly and seeing no one, I pick up one of the guns.

"You should be more careful." Logan's voice startles me, though it shouldn't have.

"You should be on time next time: then I won't have to be careful because you'd be watching my back." I snip back, looking down the barrel of the gun. The sights are perfectly aligned and highly magnified: this was made to aim long distance.

"Give me more than a day's notice next time." He steps up beside me, the smoke from his cigar drifting around our heads: I ignore the dark liquid dripping from his exposed blades.

"Sorry, I got the tip from my source and didn't have too much warning myself. These are due to ship out tonight: I have no idea what they do, but it can't be good."

"You sure you wanna do this, kid? Chuck won't be too happy when he hears you ignored his 'passive aggressive' approach." The concern is hidden behind his gruff, uncaring tone.

"I can't let these get out; she already has a big enough target on her back without these experimental 'Mutant Detainment' weapons getting out there." Logan doesn't reply, just exhales smoke quietly. With a soft _sciitch_, the gun falls into two pieces to the ground.

It doesn't take long to finish the other two boxes: these were just prototypes, so there weren't many produced. The blueprints were stuffed in my bag, purchased from a backstabbing secretary earlier that morning.

I never saw the blast coming: Logan moved too slowly for once in his life. The guard was dead, but for all we know, so was I. The radiation the gun gave off could do anything to me, anything from an extra leg to a lost arm, sudden death to eternal life. But at least those guns were never gonna make it to market.

XxXxXxXx

The image blurs, rewinding to my first week of school. I am in my room, changing from my nightclothes to the full-body jumpsuit I have to wear so people will know where I am. The TV is a constant noise in my room, never off; usually I ignore that actual words, just liking the noise, but something catches my attention. A newswoman is talking, her face a perfect mask of happiness.

"And now, a continuation of last night's report of a miraculous recovery. Angela Kitsis, age 29, was released from Chicago State Asylum just last week; today she has agreed to an interview. Angela, can you hear me?"

The screen splits and there she is: exactly as she was before, if a little more skinny. She is smiling, a delighted smile that I have never seen before, but it is _her_. My mom.

I'm on my knees before the TV in a second flat.

"Hallo, Cathy. I'm glad to be able to speak with you." She says.

"We're happy to have you. Now, Angela, we have been told by your doctors, with your permission, that you were a patient of theirs for a year. Can you tell us what happened to cause your break down?"

She smiles calmly, "My doctors say I had such a traumatic experience that my mind refuses to remember anything connected to the event. Unfortunately, that seems to mean the last thirteen years."

"You seem very calm about that."

"Well, I suppose if my mind decided I'm better off not knowing, why would I want to remember? And, if my medical records are correct, my life before this was full of drugs and pain. I see this as a chance to restart; I've already re-enrolled in classes."

"And what about your daughter, Melaney Kitsis, age twelve?" I hold my breath, scanning my mom's face for any sign of recognition. She frowns slightly, not in pain or sadness, but like she had misplaced something and couldn't find it now.

"The police are still searching, and I ask if anyone has any information that may help bring Melaney home that they call the Amber Alert Hotline. I just want my daughter back with me." Her words are right: grieving mother desperate to be reunited. But something was off; she never called me Melaney, always Mels. And those may have been the right words, but they weren't _her_ words; she was reading a script.

She didn't know me. She didn't miss me. She didn't remember me.

Ororo found me later, crying tears of sadness and relief.

XxXxXxXx

This time, it is not a slow melt. I am shoved through my memories; the time fast forwards and I am fourteen, fifteen, seventeen, nineteen, twenty-one.

It is cold, a brutal chill that freezes my fingers and toes. My bare feet burn in the snow. My tank top is not made for this weather. But I don't stop. One clumsy, desperate footstep after the other, I charge through the trees, trying to lose my pursuer.

It doesn't work. He is ahead of me before I can stop and his hand wraps around my neck and squeezes until I am desperate for air and claw at his arm. He sneers at my attempt to free myself. His hand slams against my cheek, one more injury to his grand total.

I land in the snow- the cold no longer hurts, it is a balm against my pain.

"Oh, giving up already, my dear?" His voice is mocking, cutting.

I push myself up, knowing if I don't, he will. "Why are you doing this to me?! Why kidnap _me?! I'm no one!" _If I talk maybe I can stall until someone comes to help.

His mocking smile falls, hatred and anger filling his face. "Why you? Why _you?!_ Because you are the reason there is a way to track mutants; you have no loyalty to your own kind! Just by being alive, you have betrayed us all." He snatches hold of my hair and jerks my head back painfully, "I am going to enjoy ending you traitorous life and hand delivering it to her, my dear girl."

His first hit knocks the breath from my lungs. His third sends pain through my already screaming body. The fifth sends the world into static.

It is long, painful minutes later that lightning strikes only feet away from us. He releases me and I do not have the strength to remain up right. The fight that goes on is blurry, and I only catch nonsensical flashes of three blades, illuminated by lightning, but finally the tide turns and Magneto is losing. Before he is defeated though, he escapes, throwing over his shoulder a knife and a promise, "Next time, my dear, you will beg for death."

I was begging for death for the next three days as the poison from the knife made its way through my system: nonlethal but excruciating agony.

XXXXXXXXXXX

I jerk awake then, phantom pain making me curl into a fetal position. The sound of the zipper of the tent causes me to jerk, my hand reaching to my side from a forgotten instinct, reaching for the knife I no longer carry. Not since it was used against me. Instead, I blink out of sight and watch for the intruder.

Ororo's white hair calms me, and I fade into view; she smiles at me. "Hey, come on out. Dinner's ready, and I need to catch you up on what's happening."

I smile back and nod, pushing away the tension and terror caused by my dream. "Be right out."

* * *

**AU2:** Oh, wasn't that an angsty ending. :D Did those memories raise any questions? Answer any maybe? Don't worry, everything has a point, I promise. :) I'd love to see my reviews hit double digits before the next chapter. :) Hope you enjoyed!

German Translations

Wir sind sicher. - We are safe.

Shon fraulein - beautiful lady

Vielleicht - Maybe

Hallo - Hello


	6. Promise

**Author's Note:** Well, I didn't make it to double digit reviews, but that's okay. This one gave me a teensy bit trouble, hence why it's taken so long. Hope you enjoy the mental breakdown, the bonding, and the fluff.

**Disclaimer: If I owned X-Men, Kurt would be a main character. Sadly, I don't so he isn't... :(**

* * *

The fire chases away the last of the chill in my bones left from my dream. I sit on a conveniently placed log and push around my food, nibbling every so often at the rehydrate potatoes and jerky, but really my stomach rejects much more than water. Ororo sits beside me, her hand rubbing at the knot between my shoulders and her eyes concerned, while I try to come to terms with everything she has told me.

But how do I come to terms with the fact an evil psychotic man is forcing the closest thing to a father I have to murder every mutant in the world? How do I accept the fact we are temporarily allied with the man that threatened to and almost succeeded in killing me? How do I not run and hide in terror at the fact that by tomorrow, I could very well be dead?

My scrambled thoughts jerk into a weak semblance of clarity when Dr. Jean calls for Ororo to come help her do something to fix the jet. Ororo looks at me, questioning my sanity maybe or perhaps my mental well being. I give her a small nod and push against her hand in the direction of the jet. With one more gentle smile, she leaves me alone with my thoughts.

For a few seconds at least, and then a familiar blue mutant appears beside me with a _bamf._ I look at him, regretting my harsh dismissal earlier. I am worried Kurt may be angry with me, especially when he doesn't even acknowledge I am beside him. "Kurt? Wie geht's dir?" I hope the familiar words will help some how.

"I am fine, Laney. Danke." While not cold, his words do not hold the familiar warmth he always speaks with.

I turn so I am facing him more and I reach out hesitantly for his hand. He flinches away, but, with courage from an unknown reserve, I persevere, and he lets me take hold this time. I rub a circle against his palm and speak in a slow, but sure voice, "Kurt, I haven't known you for more than a day, but I know for a fact you are not okay. I am extremely sorry if I hurt you earlier and if I can make it-"

He sighs and drops his head into his other hand, interrupting me, "I remember." I instantly stop talking, the serious tone making me squeeze his hand encouragingly. "Before the attack; they came for me at the church. There were so many of them: mutants and humans: and I could not escape. They threw me in a van and then a cell underground at the Lake. They would do something to me, something that made me obey even though I fought. It was no use, and then he made me attack the President..."

I hold his hand for a while, trying to come up with something to say that will make it better, ease the weight on his shoulders, but there are no magical words, no instant phrase to make him forget the torture he obviously endured. When my silence does nothing but making him draw further into himself, I switch tracks; I wrap my arm around his shoulders and try to offer comfort this way since words have failed me. It must work, at least a little, because Kurt relaxes slowly, inch by slow inch, until he is leaning against me. We sit like that for a while, Kurt's tail moving at one point to wrap around my waist and lay across my lap, twitching. We comfort each other, and just enjoy the shared warmth and contact that we've both been denied over the years. I am more at peace now than ever before in the past three years. And then Magneto walks by and his cold eyes catch mine and he smirks at me, a dark promise in his eyes. I freeze in fear, my form flicking out of view.

Kurt, of course, notices and he looks up, returning Magneto's glare with his own protective one; he pulls me closer with his tail, protectively shielding me from Magneto's sight. When Magneto is out of sight, Kurt pulls me up and supports my weight as he guides me back to my tent. He whispers quiet comforts in German.

* * *

It is only when I am sitting in the same spot as I was an hour ago that I return to view. I offer Kurt a timid smile, patting the spot beside me invitingly. He accepts and sits down gracefully, his legs folded under him.

"He terrifies me. No, he utterly destroys any semblance of safety and control I have." I state blandly, my eyes staring at the tent wall. It's silent for a while.

"Who is he?" Kurt finally asks.

"Magneto: the main face for mutant superiority. He was the main perpetrator in the Liberty Island case." I gasp in a breath, bite my lip to suppress a sob, and force out between my teeth, "And three years ago, he tried to kill me."

Kurt doesn't say anything, sensing I have more to tell. It takes a long minute of deep controlled breaths before I can tell him what I need to.

"He kidnapped me, in the middle of my first actual mission, and he held me captive for two days in the middle of a blizzard in the Rocky Mountains. It was the end of the second day when one of his lackeys forgot to retie the rope around my hands. I managed to escape, send a distress signal, and then I ran barefoot through the blizzard for hours before he found me.

Ororo and Logan got there before he could do much more than he already had, but he left me with the promise of a torturous death and," I pause, this time to pull down my shirt collar enough to show the ragged scar that runs the length of my left collar bone, "this. From my own knife." A hysteric laugh escapes. "That was the last mission I ever went on... until yesterday." I turn to catch Kurt's eyes. "I just had to come with Ororo and Dr. Jean; I thought maybe it was a sign telling me someone needed my help. Now, though, it seems you've helped me more than I've helped you."

Kurt shakes his head, "You have helped me, too, Laney."

My lips twist, "Not really; the only thing I've done is disappear because I'm too scared to do anything."

"He hurt you, Laney, it is okay to be afraid."

"He didn't just hurt me, though! That implies I can heal from what he did: and while, yes, I can stitch up gashes and replace the metal pins he tore from my bones, I can't get over it! I still have nightmares about those two days. Before him, I had complete control; now I am lucky if I stay visible for a third of the day!" My head falls into my hands, my voice chokes. I am ashamed of my lack of control, of my crippling fear, of my weakness. It is the reason I never leave the school for more than a few hours, never go on missions with my teammates. The reason I can't even look _him_ in the eyes without disappearing.

So lost in thought, I flinch away when something touches my face. Looking up, I meet Kurt's concerned gaze. His hand reaches again and this time, I don't move, just close my eyes and enjoy the comfort such a simple touch causes.

"Melaney," he says quietly, drawing my face up so I meet his gaze, "Melaney, I will not let _anything_ hurt you."

It is amazing the hope that floods through me at his words; especially considering the doubt I had for the same promise from Storm. I peek up at him through my lashes, daring to believe him, "Promise?"

He smiles, "I promise."

"Okay," I nod, my shoulders relaxing and my mind calming. "Okay, Kurt." I wonder if he knows how much those two words encase, how my entire world may balance on those two words that I just gave him, how much trust it takes to even give those two words up.

We sit there for a few minutes, his thumb rubbing away tears I didn't realize were there, but then Kurt breaks the silence. "Come with me." His hand slips down to grab mine and he pulls me up and unzips the tent. He steps out and I follow, our hands never releasing their hold. Once we are both outside, Kurt turns to face me and wraps his arms around my waist. "Hold on," he warns and then the world disappears.

* * *

"Laney?" he repeats, his voice edging towards panic. Finally, I laugh and lean against him more; the world finishes spinning and resettles in its proper place. "Wow...! Is that how it always feels?" He smiles slowly, unsure. "That... was awesome! Can we do that again?" Kurt laughs now.

His arms tighten around my waist, "Ja; hold on."

This time I am ready for it; my arms warp around his neck and I brace for the whirling feeling, the ground dropping from under my feet or maybe we fly up into space, but it is dark and the air is thick but the wind is gentle and we spin. Around us is eternity, in us is forever; this place is fire and ice, up and down, nowhere and everywhere. Then the ground is back and I peek out from his shoulder to see we are now at the top of a very tall tree. Down below, a tiny creek babbles over the rocks. The air contracts and again we are in that space that has nothing and everything. I lose count of how many times we repeat this, disappearing and reappearing somewhere different, but each time steals my breath away.

Finally, unfortunately, when we appear, we do not disappear; instead Kurt pulls me down to sit, his back against the tree trunk and mine against his chest. Our feet hang over the branch sides, and it is only his arm around my waist and his tail wrapped around my ankle that keeps me from falling out of the very tall tree. His chuckle echoes against my back. "Wow, Kurt. That was... beyond words. If I had your power, I'd never walk anywhere!"

He chuckles again, "Does your power not feel as such?"

"No way," I shake my head, "my power is boring." I think a second, "Here, feel." And then my power stretches out, spreading slowly like molasses from me to him. He gasps as it reaches him.

"It is warm, like a blanket, but hotter." He notes, twisting his arm curiously. "Why can I still see myself? And you?"

"If I want them to, then anyone under my power can see each other. It would be rather inconvenient if you couldn't see your own two feet." I smile at the thought. "And the heat is my energy: the Professor says it's my life-energy, or my soul. That's why I can't help disappearing sometimes, it's connected to my instincts. And the more people I hide, the more it bounces between the people and the hotter it gets around me. But, I can't do big things, like the jet, because there's too much, I can't stretch it that far. Four to six people is about my max; eight if they all have contact with each other."

"Amazing," He whispers.

"It's okay; not offensive or anything, but it's good to be invisible sometimes." Kurt stays silent this time, and then I realize why. "Oh Kurt, I'm sorry! I didn't think..." I try to turn to look at him, but his arm tightens and prevents me from turning enough to see him.

"It is okay; I know you meant nothing, Laney."

I lean back, frowning as I think, "When this is over, I'll take you for a day in New York. And I promise, not a single person will see us."

His response is a soft squeeze, his face buried in my hair. The silence now is friendly, contentment between two close friends.

XxXxXxXxXx

We stay like this for hours, Kurt resuming his stories of the circus and his family, and every now and then I offer a story about the school: first time I saw Logan's healing ability and made him sit still for six hours so I could study him: first time Storm made the thunder stop because a little girl was scared: the time I used the obstacle course in the basement and fell two stories and broke my left wrist and collarbone, taking seventeen pins to piece it back together. But finally I lose the battle with my eyelids, and Kurt's voice fades off into the darkness.

XxXxXxXxXxXxX

It is awhile later that I stir, a slow rocking drawing me from the darkness. My eyes peek open, and the first thing I see is the familiar design of Kurt's jacket. Lifting my head sightly I see Kurt now, his eyes focused on the trees ahead of him, and I belatedly realize he is carrying me.

"I can walk, you know." I murmur sleepily, a yawn fighting to escape. I lose and yawn, my jaw popping in the process.

"You will fall over the second I put you down." His teeth, always very bright against his skin, shine in the dark.

Smothering another yawn against the back of my hand, I bury my head in the spot between his neck and shoulder and sigh, "Probably. So best not." His laugh is the last thing I hear before I drift off again.

* * *

**AU2**: Hope you enjoyed. Review :)

German Translation

Wie geht's dir - How are you?

Danke - Thank you


	7. Two Outcomes

**Author's Note:** This is probably the shortest chapter so far: but a big step for Melaney happens in this chapter, and I thought where I ended was the best place. A little fluff, a little protective Logan, and a little angst: all wrapped up in one pretty chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

The next time I wake up, it is to a bright sun trying its best to burn through the roof of my tent. Stretching to pop out the kinks from sleeping on the hard ground, I smile lazily as the memories from last night pass through my head. Yesterday had started off good, went bad, and ended very good. It has been too long since I actually just relaxed and laughed; Kurt was a very interesting and likeable person, and it was impossible to _not_ relax around him. I'm positive I can already count him as a real friend; there is just something that draws me to him, like gravity. He is certainly the nicest guy I've ever met – two emotional meltdowns and not once has he even looked at me funny. That's a very good trait in a friend.

I relax back against the sleeping bag, content to just lay there until Ororo makes me get up, when a movement in the corner of my eye startles me. Oh god, was that a snake?!

My breath catches in my throat and I slowly turn my head, trying not to startle it into attacking. When finally I see it, I choke back relieved laughter because it isn't a snake, it's Kurt's tail, twitching lazily to whatever he is dreaming about. His head is by my feet and he is as far away as physically possible in the small tent; which is only about a foot and a half away. I lay there for a minute just watching that lazy twitch before finally I decide to just do it. Watching his face carefully for any sign of stirring, I reach a hand out and lightly touch his tail; he doesn't move or anything so I take my chances and study the appendage curiously. Lightly so I don't disturb him, I trace a line down the side under the spade top, surprised to find it is soft, covered in short, dark blue fur that feels like velvet against my fingertips.

Now hopelessly curious, I try to look it over more, but it's constant twitching makes this extremely difficult. Growling in slight frustration, I push the tail to the ground, trapping it against the tent floor; after a moment of struggle, it wraps around my wrist instead, the pointed tip laying in the crook of my elbow. Smiling, thoroughly amused, I use my other hand to trace along the edge of the point; the tail tightens around my arm.

"What are you doing?"

I'm so surprised, I can't help the squeal or my form shimmering. Guiltily, I look down at Kurt. He has his head propped up on his hand, grinning with some unreadable expression in his yellow eyes.

"Nothing..." Is my pathetic attempt at innocence; if my trapped arm isn't evidence enough, the embarrassed flush on my cheeks proves me guilty. Kurt raises an eyebrow and his tail taps purposely against the inside of my elbow. I can literally feel my face burning. How hot can a person get before they combust? Is the tent fireproof? I hope so...

At the quota for my weekly limit of embarrassment, I try to turn the tables. "Well, why are you in my tent?"

He quickly turns confused, "You asked me to stay."

"Huh?" I'd remember that, wouldn't I? With how exhausted I was last night, probably not.

"I was leaving," He waves to the tent flap, "And you asked me to stay." At my continued confusion, he grins, "You actually said, if I remember right, _'Bitte, Kurt, bitte stay'_, and how could I, as a gentleman, refuse?"

My face is never going to regain its normal color. And I can't even accuse him of lying, because I remember it now. How the last thing I wanted was for Kurt to leave me here alone. I could try to justify it as wanting him to keep me safe from Magneto, but I didn't. Well, I did, but that wasn't my motivation last night. I just really didn't want him to leave me.

Seeing my reluctant defeat, Kurt starts laughing, and when he doesn't seem about to stop anytime soon, I pull my arm away from his tail and storm out of the tent. And right into Logan's very solid chest: nose first. I jump away with a small cry of pain, my hand coming up to rub my nose. He looks down at me with a raised eyebrow, questioning and more than a little amused. I shy away, suddenly very much aware of how this is going to play out.

And on cue, Kurt falls out of the tent, calling, "Laney! Please don't be mad; I'm sorry!" The grin still on his face doesn't help, not one bit.

Now, Logan's look is demanding. But, God forgive me, I could only be thankful it was Logan and not Ororo this was happening with.

"Kid, you have five seconds to explain why he was in your tent." Logan growls.

"Five! That's not near-"

"Three." The hiss of his blades emphasizes his point.

"Okay! Okay! I got terrified by Magneto, Kurt made me feel better, we went for a walk and apparently I conked out on him and he had to carry me back to camp and apparently I was too tired to think because I asked him to stay and he's _way_ too nice to say no so he slept with me." I pant, having said all of that in one breath,but then I rethink that last part and mentally slap myself, "Not _with _me, but 'in-the-same-tent' with me."

Logan's eyes narrow at me, clearly searching for any sign of dishonesty, before he turns to Kurt and points a single blade at him, growling, "This can cut through steel; love to see how quickly it goes through that tail."

Said tail whips closely around Kurt's waist, his arms closing over it protectively, his eyes wide and panicked.

Logan moves his blade to point at me now. "Jet, thirty minutes. We're going to Alkali Lake." I manage a nod.

When Logan is out of hearing range, I collapse into giggles.

"Why are you laughing?!" Kurt exclaims, his tail flicking behind him fiercely. I wonder if this is as close to mad as Kurt can get.

Gasping for breath I manage to get out, "Protective... Logan...!" Obviously, this doesn't clear anything up. After a moment more, I am calm enough to say, "Logan. He's not used to being so passively protective. It's always slice and dice first, don't bother to ask questions later."

A little clearer now, Kurt tilts his head, "Then why does he try now?"

A bit of my amusement drains away. I scratch the back of my neck, biding my time, "He, um, he blames himself for my kidnapping; he was supposed to meet me and he was late, giving Magneto the opening he needed. The guilt makes him a little more protective and kind to me."

I expect an awkward silence, but really maybe not because this is Kurt, and he seems to always know what to say or do. So before I can even begin to feel awkward, he pipes up, "Well, I like my tail, so I will be on my best behavior around him."

Smothering a giggle, I throw an arm around his waist and pull him towards the smolders of the fire; the smell of rehydrated eggs is in the air. "Come on, Blue, time for breakfast."

* * *

The good mood of the morning ends halfway through camp tear-down. A fight between John and Bobby, something about John almost burning down a tent, causes the light feeling in me to grow heavy and a second later, as I watch Storm reprimand them both, I finally give into the somber tension everyone else is giving off.

I can't deny the truth of our situation anymore. There is a good chance we will not succeed in this mission; if we fail, the Professor will kill every mutant in the world and that will be the end of that. No Ororo, no Logan, no Professor, and no... my breath catches, no Kurt, who's already been hurt by this Stryker man and who is too sweet and kind to imagine gone. But, I pause and look around the campsite again, watching as Bobby and Rogue tear down the last tent, John snuffs out the fire, and Logan, Dr. Jean, and Ororo load the supplies back on the jet. Even Kurt is helping, teleporting the heavier supplies into the jet. All of their faces are set: they know they may not live another day: but they are not resigned. _We still have a chance_, I realize; if only because we are trying and we will not stop until we _are _dead. A morbid thought that surprisingly helps me a lot; a weight lifts from my shoulders and the blurring edges of my form burst into clarity.

Either we will win or we will die.

The acceptance of this fact gives me the strength to get moving, to grab a bundled up tent and take it to the jet. Maybe this is how they: Storm, Wolverine, Dr. Jean: go so confidently into danger. In the end, there are only two outcomes.

* * *

**AN2: **Hope you enjoyed. I want to thank my new friend, , for her many reviews. :) I logged on to my email and almost fell out of the chair when I saw all of the review alerts. Hope you enjoyed this, and feel free to leave a review: they make me update faster.

German Translation

Bitte - Please


	8. Confidence

**Author Note:** Contrary to what I promised my friend, I wrote this chapter for _NonExistent_ instead of working on _The Twins_. Sorry darling! Please don't hate me! Now, for the actual note: this chapter showcases a bit of new found confidence for Melaney, a lot of interaction between Laney and Kurt, and some more of that adorable, awkwardly-protective Logan. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

It is fifteen minutes later that we finally get in the air, the repaired jet creaking ominously and Dr. Jean's reassurances doing nothing to reassure me. Storm tells me that it will be a half hour before we get close enough to the lake to land. I smile at her in thanks and move to sit down on the bench seats in the back of the jet, only to freeze as my eyes meet Magneto's. He smirks with dripping hatred, his entire body screaming 'fear me'; and I do. Utterly and completely fear him for what he did to me, for the torture he put me through, and for the agony he promised me. I can physically feel my edges blurring, my form slipping slowly, inch by inch, out of my control. My heart thuds in my chest painfully and my stomach knots. Even my knees begin to shake, threatening to send me to a humiliating crash to the floor. And the entire time, he sits and watches with a sick pleasure at my fear.

"Laney...?" I jump, flinching away from the voice even as my mind tells me it is Kurt, sweet innocent Kurt. His yellow eyes look at me with concern, his hand stretched out but not touching me: giving me the choice, letting me make the next move. Meeting his gaze, it takes me a moment to actually realize I should say something.

"Yeah...?" I gasp out between panicked breaths. My eyes flick over my shoulder like a paranoid rabbit.

"Do you want to sit down?" He motions over his shoulder, to the only seat left in the front of the jet as far away from the evil in the back. My heart, while still pounding away frantically, warms at his thoughtfulness; he would stand just so I wouldn't have to be near Magneto. Bolstered by his kindness and confident from his promise to protect me, I reach forward and take his hand in mine.

"Yeah, I do; come on." And I pull him to the seats closest to us, in front of Magneto and Mystique. I glance at Magneto to see his eyes are now glazed with confusion and surprise, the sick amusement wiped out. He was confident he had me too scared to even consider getting near him and now I have completely ruined his assumption. A spike of triumph surges through me, overwhelming the lingering traces of fear, and I bounce the last step or two to our bench before plopping down, dragging Kurt with me. Kurt chuckles, at my childish behavior most likely, and with his tail he lightly tugs a lock of my hair. I swat at his tail playfully, laughing under my breath and grinning. Kurt's own grin grows a touch warmer, his hand tightening around mine. My breath hitches and my face warms; his yellow eyes meet my own and a warm tingling traces down my spine. I smile at Kurt, embracing this warm, pleasant feeling and floating on it.

Then a cold voice barks, "I see you are back on active duty, Ms. Kitsis." And ice douses any warmth in me.

There is a long moment where the only thing I can do is hold my breath and count my heartbeats; Kurt's tight grip on my hand reminds me I am not alone, not helpless, not a victim. I force myself to remain calm and visible. "Doctor Kitsis, actually." I state with an amazingly steady voice.

"Doctor," He repeats utterly polite and mocking, "Well, it is good to see you helping your own kind now; especially such an obvious one." Mystique chuckles at this.

My eyes, always focused on him for support, catch how Kurt's expression becomes a mix of hurt and acceptance. That acceptance is what sets my heart on fire: Kurt is too nice, too sweet, too _Kurt,_ to ever have heard a different opinion enough times to finally just _accept it_ as true without a single doubt. Anger I was not aware I was holding erupts into an inferno.

Looking up and fixing my coldest glare on my would-be torturer, I growl out, "Torment me, and I will take it. Torment my friends, and you will literally _never see me coming_. I promise."

My confrontation throws him off; he was expecting me to shy away, to hide with my power: but I have never felt more visible than now. My power surrounds me like a security blanket, but I do not disappear, I do not hide. I stare him down until finally he turns away and talks low to Mystique, who has to tear her glare away from me to respond to him.

Kurt lightly lays his hand over mine, and that is when I notice I am shaking. I am shaking so bad my teeth clash together when I open my mouth to breath. I force my hands to unclench, wincing as my nails peel away from red, half-moon welts on my palms. Taking the fact I do not draw my hand out from under his as an 'okay', Kurt wraps his arm around my shoulders, turning his body to block me from Magneto's view. I whisper my thanks.

"Kein problem. Thank you for defending me." He squeezes me closer for a second; the warmth of his body chases away the adrenaline and fear from my brief moment of courage. Slowly I stop shaking. A burst of movement in the corner of my eye makes me look up, briefly worried Magneto may try to make good on his threat in a jet full of X-Men, but instead I see Bobby leading Rogue away from a laughing Magneto and Mystique. Regret flashes through my heart for a second: Magneto only went after her because I hadn't provided the right response: but I let it go because I know Bobby will take care of her. Like Kurt is with me.

"You are okay?" Kurt asks quietly. Pulling in a deep breath, I nod.

"Yeah, I'll be okay. I didn't even realize I was going to say anything until it was already out. I was so angry when he said that about you..." So angry I never even thought about his possible reactions, never even noticed the fear that surged through my veins with the anger.

"Anger is a strong support, but it burns out quickly." Yeah, I can feel that. "You need to find a better support for this brave side of you." The cool surface of his rosary beads crosses my memory, and I know without a doubt his source of support.

"Faith." I supply for him, knowing that he won't want to try and push his belief onto me, but that that is what he is thinking about.

"Yes;" Kurt pauses, lightly touches my jaw with his finger, drawing my attention to his face, "but faith can be in many things. You need to find what you have faith in." He smiles at me then. A kind smile that makes my heart slow to a relaxed beat, my muscles unclench, and my emotions even out. In that smile I can see how dear of a friend Kurt will become: has already become: to me.

Movement behind Kurt breaks my focus; I lean back, not having noticed I was leaning closer to Kurt until now. Storm motions again, waving for me to join her. I pull Kurt with me by our still entwined hand, not that he complains.

She spins her chair around, letting Dr. Jean fly solo for a moment. "I want you to stay here with Bobby and them."

Instantly, my self-preservation agrees with her: out of danger, out of the action, out of sight. But the newer part of me, the part newly awakened that sees why fear needs to be conquered and wants to help, rejects this safety. "No way." I shake my head, ignoring the shocked look on Ororo's face. "I'm coming with you guys."

"Melaney, it's going to be dangerous; you could get severely hurt or even killed." She is in full mother mode, and for the first time in years, I am not comforted by it, but annoyed.

"Ororo, I know. But if I stay here, and you guys fail, I'm dead anyways. Let me help." She is about to protest but my next words catch her. "I won't slow you down and I'll stay out of the way. Just let me come to make sure everyone else stays safe too."

Her eyes scrutinize me, and she must see something that convinces her. "Okay." She finally says, "But I want you gone at first sign of serious trouble."

Kurt speaks up, "I will make sure she is gone."

"Okay." Storm repeats with a nod.

"We're here." Dr. Jean announces, and the already heavy tension thickens.

* * *

Everyone gathers around Storm, listening as she lists out all of the information we know. "All right, this is a topographical map of the dam. This is the spillway." She motions and the holograph changes. "See these density changes in the terrain? They're tire tracks." Said marks light up, showing where they originated from.

"That's the entrance," Logan adds.

Storm nods, "And this shows the depth of the ice covering the ground. Now this in recent water activity." Cue highlight of the only way in. I sigh.

"If we go in, Stryker could flood the spillway." Dr. Jean confirms my thoughts.

Storm looks over my head, where Kurt is leaning over the top of my chair back. "Can you teleport inside?"

"No; I have to be able to see where I'm going, otherwise I could wind up inside a wall." I wince at that thought. Kurt's tail flicks against my arm and I grab it before he can pull it away; it wraps around my wrist and settles comfortably there. I trace a line down it, against the fur, completely absorbed with this until Logan speaks up,

"I'll go." I look up at him, worried about my long time, seemingly indestructible friend. Together, we have a chance, slim it may be: alone, we have none. "I have a hunch he'll want me alive." Unless the evil dude has a secret history with said, amnesiac friend.

"Whoever goes into the dam needs to be able to operate the spillway mechanism." A cold finger traces my spine; I suppress a shiver, focusing more on Kurt's tail and smothering the fear that tries to slither back up. "What do you intend to do? Scratch it with your claws?" Anger twitches in my stomach at Magneto's mocking tone. How dare he.

Logan steps forward, "I'll take my chances." I glance up, studying the way Logan meets Magneto's eyes challengingly, shoulders back, muscles tense, ready to fight, not flight.

"But I won't." Magneto turns and looks back at Mystique who bares her teeth in a smile.

* * *

It is reluctantly accepted that Mystique will take Logan's form and go up the spillway. I stay back with Kurt and the students as Dr. Jean and Logan lay down the plan. Kurt is still leaning over my chair, his tail laying placidly in my lap now, the tip twitching every once in a while. I trace a line again, all the way to the tip, at which Kurt yanks his tail away. I look up, worried I had done something wrong, when he smiles at me and says, "It... tickles."

I grin and save that information for use at a later time. "Did you use your tail in your acts?"

"Ja, it is very strong; I can hang with it from the trapeze and never worry about falling."

"It's like a third hand." I smile, "I always said I would love another set of hands around the lab."

"I do not know much about medicine; no more that to bandage a cut." He smiles self-deprecatingly.

I snort, saying, "Well, you can help with the students then. Teach them German."

He perks up at my words, "Do you think I may come with you to this school for mutants?"

"Well, duh. You didn't think we were gonna send you back to that church, did you?" I am teasing, but I see in his eyes that, yes, he did. Heart aching at the sadness and resignation on his face, I reach a hand out and grab hold of his. "Kurt, you are absolutely welcome to come back with us."

"Will... will I not frighten the children?" He asks timidly.

I pull my hand away, stand up, and wrap my arms around his waist, laying my head against his chest. He smells like dust, brimstone, and something else that is absolutely just _Kurt_. "Once they get to know you, they will love you. I'm sure of it."

He wraps his arms around me hesitantly but tight.

Logan physically separates us a moment later on his way to the back of the jet. I share a _what-can-you-do? _grin with Kurt before following Logan outside; I wish suddenly for more snow appropriate shoes. The snow runs over the tops of my tennis shoes, soaking my socks and burning my toes numb in seconds. Logan walks ahead of me, completely unbothered by the icy wind. When he stops to light his cigar, I quickly step up beside him.

"Since when do you hug guys?" He demands around the cigar before I can speak.

"I hug you all the time." I point out.

"Not what I meant, kid; since when do you hug guys like_ that_?"

"Like what?" I'm confused; trying to follow Logan's thought pattern is like trying to track a three year old trail through the snow - only Logan can do it.

"Like _**that**_ – all... close. Touchy." He grimaces around his cigar, the words a bad taste in his mouth.

"I don't understand, Logan. Kurt's my friend, just like you are; why shouldn't I hug him?"

"Laney," Logan grunts, turning to look straight at me seriously, "that was not a friendly hug. You were a step away from playing tonsil hockey." I gape at him, shocked by his words. Indignation and surprise flutter in my stomach.

"What?! No I wasn't! Kurt is just my friend, Logan! That was a hug between _friends_. Nothing else!"

Logan pulls out his cigar and smoke billows around us for a second. When it clears, Logan's eyes are locked with mine, "Maybe for you." It takes my brain a second to process this but before I can protest, justify, rationalize, Logan adds, "I know the look of a man seeing someone he doesn't think he can have, and your German _friend_ is the perfect example." Normally, Logan's voice is edge, no smothered, in sarcasm; but now, his tone is entirely solemn, his voice stark. So I think about what he said.

Could Kurt like me more than a friend? Would it even be possible after only knowing each other for a little over a day? Or is Kurt just more expressive than Logan is used to? How would I tell? Why would Kurt like me?

"Logan? Laney?" Storm's sudden voice breaks my thought train, "We're heading to the spillway now. Mystique should be getting there soon and we need to be ready when she contacts us." She motions us to join the group filing off the jet. I catch Kurt's eye and find myself blushing when he smiles and waves.

Of course he can't like me; Logan's seeing things.

* * *

**AU2: **Is it denial? Self-protection? Or does Laney have an actual reason for believing Logan is seeing things? Find out in the up coming chapters! Hope you enjoyed! Please review!

German Translation

Kein problem - No Problem

Ja - Yes


	9. Inside Alkali

**Author's Note: **I wrote this chapter around midnight a few days ago, and typed it up last night around 1am. So, please, if there are any grammar or spelling mistakes, tell me. This chapter features the beginning of the climax! It has taken a while, I know, but I hope you guys have enjoyed the ride as much as I have. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Trust me, X-Men would be much different if I owned it. I only lay claim to Melaney and Molly.

* * *

We have just made it to the spillway entrance when Mystique buzzes our earpieces, "I'm in."

"She's good." Logan comments, and I have to agree.

"You have no idea." Magneto catches me off guard, his voice too close for comfort; I step away from him and bump into Kurt's side. He glances at me and gives a small, tight smile, and he reaches back to hold my hand. Hoping desperately my face isn't turning red: curse Logan for planting these thoughts: I take comfort in his steady presence, focusing absently on the heat of his hand to keep from flickering out of existence.

The giant metal doors slowly grind open, and lightning erupts inside. Two guards fly back from the bolts, the air instantly smelling like charred skin. Dr. Jean tosses the other against the wall, his head hitting with a sickening _thunk _that makes me flinch back. He doesn't move as we move pass into the short hallway. Which is also full of guards, their guns by their sides, their eyes wide in shock at the sudden attack on the secret base.

As instructed, I let go of Kurt's hand and step back, letting my teammates pass to go on offensive while I stay out of the fight, invisible and utterly useless. I watch as Storm creates a windstorm around two guards, slamming them against the wall and pinning them there as lightning jumps between another two behind her. Dr. Jean levitates one as he tries to raise his gun, halting his movements and tossing him towards Logan who does something probably lethal, but I don't watch to find out. Instead, I focus on Kurt.

And now I understand how that gentle man took down the Secret Service single-handed. He dodges a right hook from one guard, uses his tail to pull the guard to the ground, and simultaneously uses the guard's back as a springboard to jump and drive his feet into the chest of another guard. Before that guard hits the ground, Kurt disappears in a cloud of blue smoke and reappears above a guard trying to ambush Storm; he lands on the guard's shoulders and as the guard falls, Kurt flips and catches another by the throat with his tail. He hurls the guard over his shoulder, and the guard slams head first into the wall. He slides down, but stumbles back to his feet after a dazed second with only a broken, bloody nose. Forgotten by the fighters, he finally has the chance to aim his gun; it levels on Logan's back. And even though I know Logan will heal from anything this guard can throw at him, and that Logan would love the excuse to take down another of Stryker's men, I react on a long buried, recently found, learned instinct. I throw myself at guard, my arms wrapping unseen around his waist and throwing us both to the ground. I manage to slam his wrist against the concrete floor as we tumble, his fingers letting go of the weapon unwillingly. We slam against the hallway wall, my head rebounding off it and making stars flash in my vision; the guard struggles, trapped by my sloppy pin and the wall, but it is difficult fighting an opponent you can't see. I manage a quick succession of hits to his face, somehow knocking him out.

I gasp in air, adrenaline pumping through my system and buzzing along my nerves. My form slips into view. As I stand, I see the fight is over, everyone nursing the various bruises received from the guards, thankfully no one is seriously hurt. Logan wipes a line of blood away from an already healed wound; Kurt helps Storm up. After a quick regroup, we move down the hallway.

There are two men on guard at the operation room doors; Dr. Jean takes care of them easily. The thick metal doors, already scarred by the guards' attempts to get to Mystique, are simple work for Magneto to tear a section out and drop it to the side with a tremendous crash.

Mystique is waiting for us, her body relaxing from its ready stance as her eyes set on Magneto.

"Have you found it?" Magneto demands.

"A large portion of energy from the dam has been diverted to this chamber."

"Cerebro." Storm breathes, worry overriding her stoic expression.

"There it is." Magneto whispers, his tone both awed and relieved.

"Can you shut it down from here?" Storm asks.

My hopes rise: shut it down now!

"No." My stomach drops.

Magneto turns, ordering Mystique, "Come. There's little time."

Dr. Jean steps forward challengingly, "Not without us."

I look away from the conflicting leaders, my eye caught by movement on the monitor. Oh my god... I grab Storm's wrist, jerking her attention to the screen.

"My god. The children." She pushes forward, ripping her arm from my grasp. "Kurt," She turns, "will you come with me?"

"Yes." He says.

"I'm coming too." I tell them, wanting to help the kids. She nods in agreement, not wasting time in arguing with me even though I can see she would rather I stay here.

"Where are they?"

Mystique pushes a button, "They're being held in a containment cell one level down." As I watch, a child touches the wall and jumps back in pain as the screen flashes white. I wince and wish I had brought my kit with me.

Storm looks to Dr. Jean and plans, "Alright, we'll get the children and meet you at Cerebro."

Dr. Jean nods, "Okay, I'll try to find Scott and the Professor."

"Will you be alright without us?" Storm asks, and I look at Dr. Jean in worry. Even though we have never done more than tolerate each other's presence, I do not want to leave her alone with Magneto and Mystique.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." The confidence in her voice makes me smile a little.

"Where's Logan?" I spin around, my smile falling as quick as it appeared, looking for him; he is no where to be seen. My heart pounds in my chest. We all see the ear bud at the same time.

"He's gone." Dr. Jean whispers. No...

* * *

Storm leads the way down the halls, her steps confident and hurried. I stay beside Kurt, looking back every so often for guards, but the halls are strangely empty. Like everyone is gone, or at one place. "You are a very good fighter." Kurt's comment catches me off guard. I look up at him with wide eyes.

"What?"

"You are a good fighter; I saw you with the guard. Well, not truly; I saw the guard." He smiles down at me.

I look at him for another second, confused: he never struck me as appreciative of fighting. Finally I manage to shake my head and say, "I'm nothing compared to you; I've never seen anything so amazing!"

He beams at the compliment. "I... could show you some basics, after we rescue the Professor."

Reminded of all at stake, I still succeed a sincere smile and tell him, "I'd like that, a lot."

We continue for a while in silence, before suddenly we hear shouting, "Help us! Anybody!"

"Listen," Storm stops and I mimic her, searching for where the pleas are coming from. Another call, there! We move slowly, carefully into a room with only a grate in the middle of the floor: the cell the children are being held in. Even though the children are most certainly prisoners, there are no guards here either.

"Get us out of here!"

"Jubilee?" Storm calls, leaning over the grate.

"Storm." The relief is overwhelming in her voice, and I can't help my own sigh of relief either. They all look a little cold and very scared, but uninjured.

"We're coming." Storm calls down. I look at her, confused; this grate has to weigh two hundred pounds easily, how are we going to mov-_Bamf_.

I smile and laugh at myself. Duh. My smile slips a little though as the children shy away from Kurt. "It's okay! He's with us!" I call down, hoping they understand.

There is a pause, in which Kurt whispers something to the children, and then Archie, that wonderful boy, steps forward and takes hold of Kurt's hand. Two at a time, Kurt brings the children up, some taking longer to accept his help than others, but all of them do eventually. The last up is Jubilee, who had stayed down to help encourage the littler ones. She hugs Storm first, and then manages a one-armed squeeze for me, a hug impossible around Molly in my arms. I gently smooth down Molly's hair and whisper calm words to her as silent tears wet my shoulder.

"Kurt? Are you okay?" I look up, instantly worried to see Kurt leaning heavily against the wall. I have a feeling if he wasn't blue, he'd be very pale, or green.

"Ja, mir geht's gut; I'm fine. I am not used to carrying so many, so many times." He pushes himself off the wall and fixes a shaky grin on; Storm looks him over and must decide he is okay for now because she nods and starts leading the group through the dam. I catch Kurt's eye, and he nods to me, setting his shoulders and taking up the tail of the group. A small, proud smile slips over my expression.

We walk slowly, the little whimpers of the children bouncing off the concrete walls and announcing to anyone near by that we are coming. The sound of rumbling draws us to a momentary halt before Storm picks up the pace. We are almost at the fake Cerebro: I can tell from the desperate look on Storm's face: when the pain hits. It is a sudden agony, and there is no reason for it, no escape from it. My legs shake and give out, and I have only enough sense to turn my body so I take the brunt of the fall and protect Molly before I collapse. My body hits the concrete but it is a small pain compared to the flaring torture in my mind. My grip on Molly tightens reflexively as the small child squirms in a pain she should never experience. It hurts, it burns, it is pain that I have no comparison for. I try to scream but my voice is lost in the pain. Frantically, I try to hide, my last resort, my only defense.

And then it is gone. I pant for air, blood dripping to the ground from where I bit through my bottom lip. Looking ahead of me, I see Storm and the children on the ground, the pain still seizing their minds. My heart skips a beat when I turn and see Kurt on the ground, his tail limp and his hands protectively wrapped over his head. Stretching forward, I touch his forehead with my fingertips, and instantly his body sags in relief. Molly, too, relaxes as her pain ends. Kurt's eyes peek at me from under his arms, and there is that emotion I can't exactly read in his yellow gaze, but before I can even try I am distracted as Storm and the other children start moving; their torture stopped by forces not my own. I melt into view with Kurt and Molly. Storm catches my eyes and with a single nod to me, we are off again, this time flat out sprinting. I only spare a second to pray for the first time in years, _please help us. _

* * *

**AN2:** Well, that's it for now. Hope you liked it, and please feel free to review!


	10. Cerebro

**Author's Note: **Welcome back! Sorry for the long wait, my school year has started again and, boy, is this year shaping up to be difficult. That being said, updates may be sparse over this semester: not stopping, but definitely slower. My apologies.

In this chapter, we have reached the point of climax. Or well, part one of the climax. I'm not gonna say anything, hopefully to keep the suspense up, but I will tell you that I tried something a little different halfway through; hope it worked out how I wanted. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer:** Don't own any of the X-men, but I do own Melaney and any side plots. So please don't steal.

* * *

We turn a corner in a dead sprint, and there it is: the large, circular door that hides the Professor.

"What is this?" Kurt asks as we slow to a stop, our expressions ranging from awe to despair.

"Cerebro," Storm gasps.

"Storm!" The familiar voice of Scott Summers comes from behind. I turn to see him and a shaky looking Dr. Jean limping towards us; through the serious tension of the situation, I am relieved to see Scott and Jean are, mostly, uninjured. They stop in front of us, gasping in pain of shortness of breath, I can't tell.

"Jean! Are you okay?" Storm voices my concern.

"I'm fine." Did... did that just echo in my mind? I look around me, disturbed at the light caress against my thoughts, but no one else flinches or makes any outward show of having been telepathically connected. Worried and concerned and shocked, I check my mental control, looking for a crack, a hole, something that would suddenly allow access to my mind: there are none.

One half of my attention continues to worry this new development over while the other half listens as Storm asks, "What's happening?"

"Professor's still in there," Dr. Jean shakes her head, blinking as she tries to search with her telepathy through feet of steel and the unknown, "with another mutant. He's trapped in some kind of illusion." My heart stops as an image flashes in front of my eyes; a little girl with wide frightened eyes, but something is off about her, she isn't as innocent as she looks: and then with the _thud _of my pulse it is gone. Fear spears my heart; what was that?! I try to push away the panic and terror the image has caused, trying to listen as Jean gasps, "Oh my God. Magneto's reversed Cerebro. It's not targeting mutants anymore." Humans. It's targeting humans. The words touch my mind like a feather, a stark contrast to the normal agony of telepathy invading my mind. And this time, I recognize the voice.

Storm demands, "Who is it targeting?"

"Everyone else." The horror of the situation hits the team at the same time. That pain, that anguish, now being experienced by every human in the world: children, men, women. I can see them, white lights slowly collapsing, their knees giving out, their hands trying desperately to block out a pain that is inside of them, their cries echoing through my mind. Fear trickles down my back in a cold sweat, but contrary a spark erupts in my chest. We have to do something to prevent this pointless genocide.

"Stand back." Scott commands, moving away from Jean and reaching to touch his gazer, ready to blast open the doors. No! No!

"No. His mind is connected to Cerebro. Opening it could kill him and everyone his mind is linked to."

I nod in agreement with Jean, mind whirling as I try to think of another way, any way. I watch with far away eyes as Storm moves then, stepping up to Kurt and starting to say, "Wait. Kurt, I need you to-"

"No, Storm." I calmly interrupt, my thoughts settling as I realize the only possible way, "You can't do anything that may damage the machine; you would cause the exact same result as Scott." Jean and Storm both turn to look at me, Jean shrewdly and Storm confused and startled, perhaps at my interruption or maybe at the confidence in my tone. I take a deep breath, "Let me do it."

Jean instantly objects, "You won't be able to; you've never attempted that before. I'll do it."

I glare at her, "Obviously, your powers are not exactly cooperating." She flinches back, and I know now for sure. "You could make everything worse. I have to do this; it's the only way that has the least likely chance of killing every human in the world." Neither of us acknowledge the thought that runs through my head, _and most likely to kill myself_. Not giving anyone the chance to second guess me, I turn to Kurt. "Kurt, I need to get in Cerebro. Can you take me?"

Scott breaks in determinedly, "Who is this guy? Who are you?" He looks between Kurt and me, and even with his gazer on I can see the distrust, the blatant judging based off of Kurt's appearance.

"My name is Kurt Wagner, but in the Munich Circus-" I tap a finger over Kurt's lips, cutting him off. I manage an apologetic look before looking at Scott. "He teleports."

I look back to Kurt, waiting for his answer. He looks down at me with conflicted eyes, "I told you, if I can't see where I'm going..." That won't do.

"Kurt, remember how we agreed me showing up at that church was an answer to your prayers?" A slight smile and nod. "Well, now, you are the answer to mine." His eyes widen in surprise, "I don't have faith in any god or deity, but I have faith in you."

He holds my eyes, clearly in an internal battle. Jean speaks up, "You can't do anything to the Professor while he's connected to everyone; the sudden shock of being disconnected could have a serious back flash of energy. Disconnect everyone else, though, and he'll be able to see through the illusion himself."

I nod my understanding, not looking away from Kurt. He glances at the door warily before finally he speaks softly, "Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name." He wraps his arms around my waist and I grab onto his jacket, tucking my face into his shoulder, because somehow I know this will not be the smooth ride of our previous trips. There is an intake of the air around us. "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done..." He tightens his grip. I clench my eyes shut. The ground drops from beneath my feet and we are gone.

And then it is back and I gasp as my knees almost buckle. "...on Earth as it is in heaven." The relief of not being half inside a wall makes me cling to Kurt harder for a second, before the tension returns. We separate and I look around at the poor imitation of Professor Xavier's shining Cerebro. I have only been in the real one once before, but this scavenged, puzzle-pieced knock off pales in comparison. I turn and see a man in a wheelchair, a ventilator forcing his lungs to expand and contract with a quiet hiss that is glaringly loud in the silence of the knock off Cerebro. In front of him is the Professor, hooked up to the fake Cerebro.

"Professor!" I shout, moving to dodge around the unknown mutant, when Kurt wraps his arms back around my waist and pulls me behind him, shouting terrified, "_Nein_, Laney! Beweg dich nicht! They will shoot!" His fear is so overwhelming, so real, that for a moment I actually freeze and look for the danger even though I had already looked over the area. Then I realize what is happening: the mutant. I am invisible to his illusion, hidden in my ability, but Kurt is not.

"Kurt, it's not real. Whatever you are seeing, it isn't real." I tell him forcefully, having no time to be kind and gentle like I know I should be. I slowly pull from his protective hold. But when he screams in pain and jerks like he has just been shot at close range, my heart decides one more person added to six billion will not matter. His smothered screams of pain turn to gasps for breath and he blinks dazedly as suddenly whatever reality he was seeing disappears. He meets my eyes, and after a long second, he nods and manages a smile. I try to return it, but the severity of our situation has reasserted itself and only fear and horrid anticipation flow through me. As I walk past the mutant in the wheelchair, I warn Kurt, "Kurt, it's about to get really hot in here."

"I'm not going anywhere."

I smile now, relieved not to be left alone to this mission. Now, I am directly behind the Professor, my stomach just barely brushing the back of his wheelchair. Careful not to touch his skin, my fingers lightly graze the sides of the helmet: immediately I gasp. My world goes dark. And in the dark, are six billion little lights softly glowing in the blackness of Cerebro: and every light signifies a human, and every human is dying.

* * *

**...Kurt...**

When Melaney looks at me with her light gray eyes pleading, I push away my fear and doubts about my power. She is warm in my arms, and her solid presence gives me the courage I need to teleport us.

"Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name-" She grabs my jacket, and I tighten my arms around her, ready at any moment to reverse, to teleport back, if this goes wrong. "-Thy kingdom come, thy will be done..." There is a very large chance of this going wrong, but I do not tell Melaney that, because if she has faith in me to do this one thing for her, than I have faith in God to help me. Help us. "...on Earth as it is in heaven."

...

Guns, barrels pointed straight at us from fifteen different guards. The one in the middle, the tallest one who gives off the raw scent of power, shouts, "Do not move! Move and we will kill you!" They stand there without moving, their eyes dead and merciless, and fear rolls down my spine and tail in heavy waves; Melaney pulls away and shouts, but not the scream of fear or panic I may have expected. No, Melaney, _mutig_ Melaney, looks right through the guards and calls for the Professor. The guards do not react to her exclamation, but I do not chance them ignoring her if she starts moving. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her behind me, panicked that she may try to struggle and they may shoot and she can't get hurt. I promised to protect her. "_Nein_, Laney! Beweg dich nicht! They will shoot!" My back blocks most of the threat, but she is still too exposed, too many barrels with too many bullets that could tear easily through me and into her. I curl around her, my tail flicking in a hopeless arc; I know we are done for when the sound of a cocking gun reaches my ears. And then she says calmly, "Kurt, it's not real. Whatever you are seeing, it isn't real." _Was? Of course it is... nicht wahr?_

She pulls away slowly, but I can not help when I reach out to her, my natural instinct fighting to keep her from leaving my arms, wanting to protect her; the guards open fire.

The pain is not a burn, nor is it the sharp piercing agony one would expect from being shot; instead, it is a dull, heavy thud and then absolute desperation to escape from the injury. Torture rushes like electricity through my veins and my blood drips steadily from my wounds and I can only pray that Melaney has not been hit as bad as I have, when suddenly it is gone. I gasp in shock.

Melaney's eyes are worried, concerned. I can see now what she had tried to tell me, that the guards were just an illusion, they were not real and neither were the gun shots that had felt so very real. Grateful, I give Melaney a wobbly smile. She nods at me and then faces forward, her shoulders squared. I watch as this beautiful, courageous woman readies herself for battle; this woman who shied away from violence before, now ready to head into war alone.

As she walks away, closer to the man in the wheelchair that must be the Professor, she warns me, "Kurt, it's about to get really hot in here."

It is a warning, but also an offer; she is giving me the chance to escape before she does whatever it is she is planning on doing to save the humans: something that may end very, very badly. I never even consider it: I will stay and help and protect Melaney in any possible way. She isn't in this alone. "I'm not going anywhere." Her smile is worth the possible danger.

She moves closer to the Professor, and her fingertips just barely touch the helmet he has on. Her body seizes, locking every joint into place and every muscle contracting until Melaney is bent backwards, her head tipped back to the ceiling. Her eyes stare unseeing at the patchwork ceiling, her irises darkening almost to black. Blood drips over her cheek as her teeth cut into the flesh of her bottom lip. Terrified, I leap to her side and try to reach her, but she is gone. Logically, I know she is still there, still only a step in front of me, six inches from my hand; but my mind is so sure of her nonexistence, I can not even force myself to continue reaching forward. My hand veers to the left.

Unwillingly but resigned, I step back and settle to wait, patiently, until she has completed her mission.

This, I can not protect her from.

* * *

**AN2: **I hope Kurt's point of view worked out okay. It was supposed to feel a little choppy and disorganized, to reflect the tension of the climax, but I hope that didn't interfere with the glimpse into Kurt's mind. Review if you enjoyed!

German Translation

Beweg dich nicht! - Don't move!

Mutig – Courageous

Was? - What?

Nicht wahr? - (literally means 'not true?' I use it to mean-) right?


End file.
